


I've been Searching

by TheBearQueen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Blushing, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, I Know the Summary is bad but Give it a Chance, Light Dom/sub, Love at First Sight, M/M, Making Out, Medical Inaccuracies, Meet the Family, Meeting the Parents, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, The Direwolves Are Tibetan Mastiffs, The Stark Siblings - Freeform, Virgin Jon Snow, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBearQueen/pseuds/TheBearQueen
Summary: Jon is an EMT who loves his job. He wakes up every day and hops in his rig with his best friend and partner, Samwell Tarly.He and Sam spend all day helping people, and Jon wouldn't have it any other way.He has his dog, his siblings, his friends,But he still feels like something is missing.Will a seemingly routine call out to the country give him what he's been searching for?Smut starts in Chapter 5
Relationships: Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Comments: 37
Kudos: 104





	1. The Beginning of it All

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo this is my first real attempt with a multi-chapter fic, please be gentle with your reviews.  
> I've already started working on chapter two, and I'm hoping I can keep this pace up.  
> Please leave a comment and enjoy!!

Jon starts his day normally. 

Shower, Coffee, ride his bike to work. Hop in the rig with Sam and start taking calls from dispatch. 

Broken arm, car accident, fainting pregnant lady. 

Lunch.

Gilly has Sam on a health kick again, so he complains and picks at his salad until Jon offers to share his fries out of pity for his dear friend. Lunch ends and they notify dispatch that they're back on the street, and they respond immediately. 

"Great timing 414, we just got a call from an acreage about 10 minutes out from the Wall, probable concussion, and you're the closest unit. The address is 441 Antler Drive, patients name is Giantsbane." 

Sam picks up the radio and responds instantly.

"414 on route, dispatch." 

The Wall wasn't much of a wall, more of a ledge. Old stacked stones that only went about three feet high, but went on for a mile in length. 

Jon kept an eye out for Antler Drive and told Sam when to turn.

They pulled up to a monstrous house, and Jon saw a woman frantically waving her arms up and down, and he grabbed the assessment kit and jumped out of the rig to follow her. 

She introduced herself to him as Val, and then lead him behind the house while Sam followed with the bigger first-aid bag. 

Jon followed her through a ring of people to a large man laying on the ground.

He flips him over and is met with one of the most attractive men he's ever seen his in life. He can't help but take in the thick beard and strong nose. He has freckles on every part of skin Jon can see, though he tries his best not to notice at all. 

He groans internally. (He hasn't gotten laid in weeks, and then for the first time in his entire five year career as an EMT he is met with a patient whom he finds unbearably attractive.  
Oh how cruel are thee, dear universe.)

"What happened to him?" He asks, checking his pulse. 

"He got drunk and tried to jump off the roof, onto the kids' trampoline, and jump off of  _ that _ to land in the pond. Obviously he didn't make it that far," 

Val's voice was dry when she answered him, and he wonders if this happens often. 

Jon taps the man on the shoulder until he opens his eyes.

"Sir, can you hear me? I need you to keep your eyes open, so I can help you. Can you do that?" 

The man blinks at him, and for a minute Jon thinks this'll just be another normal run. 

Then he opens his mouth. 

"Oh, anything for you sweetheart." 

(What the fuck?)

Jon's heart stuttered, and he fumbled for a second before regaining his composure. 

"Okay then. Follow my finger," 

"What's your name?" 

"I'm Tormund Giantsbane! Who are you, baby?" 

(A tiny voice in Jon's head screams out for mercy.  
He tries his best to crush it.)

He shines his penlight at his eyes, (oh, his blue, blue eyes) and sees that his pupils aren't retracting to the light. He sighs and checks his head over for bumps or cuts, and finds a goose egg the size of an  _ actual _ goose egg in his hair. (His hair! Beautifully red and thick and wavy, Jon wants to bury his hands in it and  _ pull- _ ) 

He snaps himself out of it and tells Sam to get the stretcher. Turning around to address the ring of people, he asks 

"Next of kin?" 

Someone from the back pipes up. 

"His sister is on her way, we called her, but she's still 5 minutes out," 

"That's fine, just tell her to meet him at the Wolf-Den Hospital," 

He turned and helped Sam lift the stretcher, then bent to help Tormund up from the ground and onto it. 

"One of us will stay with him until she gets there." 

As he and Sam helped him lay down on the stretcher he winked at Jon and said in a slurred voice,

"I hope it's you." 

(Ignore. It.)

Jon was trying very hard not to blush because this man was his patient, and he was very serious as a professional. (But also,  _ oh god,  _ **_so_ ** _ Jon's type. _ ) 

They load Tormund into the back of the truck and Jon hops in after him. Sam closes the doors and goes around to start driving, while Jon secures the stretcher to the floor of the rig. When they start rolling Tormund groans and squeezes his eyes shut, and Jon is there with a bucket a minute later. A large hand clumsily grabs it as the smell of vomit fills the truck. 

Jon gathers the long ginger hair into a loose bun, knowing from personal experience how much it sucks to get puke in your hair. 

He falls back on the stretcher and Jon gingerly sets the bucket in a cabinet nearby in case they need it again before they reach the hospital. 

Tormund fumbles the back of his head and feels the bun, and when he looks up at Jon he beams at him and Jon feels his heart flutter. (Ahhh nononono  _ patient patient patient _ ) 

They arrived at the third ambulance entrance in Wolf-Den and Jon goes about getting the stretcher out into the emergency room. 

He flags down a doctor and tells them the circumstances. 

"Look man I’d love to help you but we're super short-staffed today, and your guy isn't a top priority right now. I'll have someone to see him as soon as I can, but right now I'd appreciate it if you would monitor him. I can email your boss if they give you trouble," 

Jon sighs. 

"Okay. Next of kin should be on their way soon anyhow." 

He returns to Tormund and wheels him to a private room, (Being friendly and cute goes a  _ long _ way with head nurses) and gets him settled on the real bed before sending the gurney off to be sterilized and put back in a rig.

He takes a seat on the chair next to Tormunds bed and gives him a once over. The other man is staring at him, a sly grin on his face.

It makes Jon's stomach twist, in the best and worst way possible. "You're pretty." Jon gapes at him for a moment before forcing a dry laugh. "Why thank you." "Really very pretty, actually. You have got to be one of the greatest works of art I've ever seen." He has no response to that, finding himself struck to his core with the man's words. Unable to do anything other than catch the sapphire eyes he is met with wide blown pupils, and is thrashed harshly back into reality. Jon has to firmly remind himself that this was nothing but concussional delusion. (somewhere deep in Jon's mind a part of him wondered what he would say to him healthy. Would he still find Jon attractive? Would he be even more bold in his flirting, or would he not be flirting at all?) Try as he might he wasnt quite able to banish all these questions from his mind. They sit in silence before Jon gets up to check the clock in the hallway. He'd left his phone on the rig, and his watch was currently in his locker at the station. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Jon looks up when the deep voice fills the silence. He meets Tormund's eyes and sees a familiar expression of uncertainty. He sees it in a lot of people he brings here. 

He sits back down set to Tormund. 

"I was just checking the time. Your sister should be here soon." 

The man's expression brightens at that, so Jon follows the topic. 

"Is she older or younger, your sister?" 

Tormund smiled widely. 

"She's younger. A real spitfire, ha. I taught her how to throw a proper punch before she could ride her bike, " he recalls, and Jon smiles back at him.

"That sounds like me and my little sister. She's training to be an Olympic Fencer, actually. 

She always told our Father she wanted to be a swordswoman when she grew up. When he told her those weren't a thing, well, she sulked for days. A month later was her 11th birthday, so I saved up and bought her a week of fencing lessons, and she never looked back. Even our Fatehe couldn't ignore her talent," 

A warm hand patted his arm. 

"That's sweet. You get it!" 

Jon laughs, 

"Yeah, I guess I do." 

Just then there's a clatter in the hall, and Jon gets up to go investigate. The second he leaves the chair to make for the door again there's a hand wrapping around his forearm.

"Hey! Wait! Uh, I uh, um-" Jon looks down at him and sees his eyes darting back and forth between the door and the window, and for a moment Jon is tempted to call for hospital security, but something tells him it'll be fine. 

He gently sets himself on the edge on the bed and looks at Tormund. 

"How are you doing big guy? You need anything?" 

('Touch him,' the voice in his head whispers.  
Jon finds himself very tempted.)

He squints at Jon as if he's confused at the question. Jon decides to try again, so he stands up and grips a shoulder in each hand ( _ Ohhhhhh muscles. Firm, well-built muscles. Oh god.)  _ before stooping down and forcing Tormund to look him in the eye. 

"Tormund. Are you okay?" 

He blinks twice and then shakes his head no. Jon lets out a slow breath and smiles. 

"That's alright. I can help. Why don't you tell me what you need and I'll do everything I can to get it for you?" 

Tormund stares at him for a few seconds before nodding. He licks his lips and opens his mouth to start talking. 

"It's just that I- I don't- Where am I? Where's my family? There's no one here." 

Ah. That makes sense, Jon thinks. 

He sits back down on the edge of Tormunds bed, ignoring how close they get when he does it. 

"Okay, yeah, I can help you out with that stuff. You're at the Wolf Den Hospital, your little sister is on her way here, and should be walking in any minute. And for now,  _ I'm _ here," 

Says Jon, and he sees Tormund relax a little. 

"And who are you? I still don't know your name crow." 

Jon blinks in surprise and feels embarrassment creep up his spine. 

"Well, my name is Jon Snow. How am I a crow, exactly?" 

Tormund grins up at him, before leaning up and flicking a wayward curl from Jon's face. 

(Oh, God, how did they get so close? When did they get so close?)

"Pretty black feathers," Tormund mumbles, and Jon thanks every star in the sky that there were no colleagues around to see him turn crimson. He jerks upright hastily and cleats is throat. 

Tormund is just looking at him now, and  _ oh _ how everything in Jon wants to kiss him ( _ among other things) _ but he knows he can't, so he clears his throat and stands up again. He doesn't go for the door, instead for a small table with a cup. 

"I'm thirsty. Do you want some ice chips?" 

Tormund hums what Jon assumes is a yes, so he tells him he'll be right back, and finds the ice machine. 

When he gets back to the room there's a short redheaded woman leaning over Tormunds' bed, embracing him. 

"Got you your ice chips," Jon says as a way of announcing himself.

He damn near drops the cup when the woman turns around because it's- 

" _ Ygritte?!? _ "

Her jaw drops and her face morphs into the perfect picture of shock. She starts towards him with a raised fist and he backpedals, hard. 

"Jon fucking Snow! Where have you been! It's been six! Years!" She punctuated each of her statements with a whack to his arm. He pushes lightly at her shoulders, laughing, (but  _ ouch _ . He figures she still has one hell of a left hook if anything else) 

He smiles warmly at her. 

"I guess we just fell out of touch, huh?" 

She smiles back with her still crooked teeth, and Jon can see the girl he thought he loved in high school. 

(Before he figured out he was  _ hella _ fucking gay, anyway) 

Tormund picks this moment to pipe up. 

"How do you know each other? Did I pass out again?"

Ygritte laughs and smooths her hand down her brothers arm. 

"No T, this is Jon, he and I went to the same High school for a few years," 

"Oh. Okay" 

Jon clears his throat. 

"Well, I really should get back to work before my boss starts calling me. It was nice running into you again," He says to Ygritte, and then turns quickly to Tormund as well. 

"And great meeting you too." 

Tormund grins at him and his heart trips in his chest. He's only a few feet past the door when Ygritte runs after him. 

"Hey! Don't think you're getting rid of me again Mr. Medic!" 

He smiles at her and she puts her number in his phone. 

"I'll text you tonight after I get my brother settled. You know he really seemed to like you," She smirks at him, and part of Jon wonders if he's that obvious. 

They part ways and thoughts of Tormund make his heart flutter all the way back to where Sam has been waiting in the truck. 

When he gets back into the passenger's seat Sam stares at him with a raised eyebrow for a long minute. 

"What?" He asks, defensive. 

"You're glowing Jon. Literally glowing. What happened in there? You know if you don't tell me I'll just find out anyway." 

Jon curses because he  _ does, in fact, _ know that. Sam has a gift for fishing information out of literally anyone. 

His friend keeps looking at him and it all comes rushing out, and when he's done Sam looks like he's trying not to laugh. 

"So, let me get this straight, the first patient you  _ ever _ find attractive won't stop flirting with you,  _ and _ his sister is your high-school beard? Jesus Jon, only you," Sam shakes his head and starts up the rig. 

"Let's get going then, lover boy, we've still got a few hours left today." 

Jon punches him good-naturedly on the arm, laughing. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AS Jon and Tormund grow closer, their relationship begins to change.   
> Dates and conversations are had, various plans made.   
> Neither of them expected to fall so hard so fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't want to jinx myself but my writing pace is still going pretty strong.   
> Fair warning after this chapter things may start to get kinda smutty. (Or very smutty)   
> I love my Bois falling in love. 
> 
> A massive thank you to Pipa for betaing this chapter for me!

Chapter 2

Jon starts getting texts from Ygritte almost every day. This particular morning she's bitching about an early shift at work, and she openly calls Jon a freak for being up this early  _ voluntarily. _

_ J: I wouldn't exactly call it voluntary. You try saying no to a dog three times your size when he wants to go for a walk. _

_ Y: Touché, Snow. How is the beast?  _

When she had found out that he had a dog, she demanded pictures, and she wanted to know everything about him. Despite not having met him yet she was convinced they were going to be the best of friends. 

_ Y: Y can't ppl just drink normal coffee? The 2 girls in front of me just ordered something called a "unicorn macchiato" _

_ J: Lmao. According to my sister Unicorns are big right now  _

_ Y: Haha. Wat r u doing dork :P?  _

_ J: How are you still managing to text like it's 1998?  _

_ Y: Fuk U _

Jon snorts and shoves his phone back into his pocket. She was still ridiculous. 

When they had gone to school together she had  _ always  _ been a bad influence on him. Once she convinced him to help her prank the entire football team  _ and  _ cheerleading squad by messing with the sprinkler system. The memory tugs a smile onto Jons’ lips. They had very nearly been caught for that one. 

Jon inhaled the crisp air, the early morning giving it a chill even though it was mid-June. Ghost tugged impatiently on his leash, and Jon hurried after him, lest the Mastiff drag him down the street.

Jon follows after Ghost, finding himself drifting from daydream to daydream and they walk along the trails. 

(Tormunds strong shoulders-)

(“ _ Oh, anything for you  _ **_sweetheart-”_ ** )

(“ _ You're pretty.”) _

They're passed by a jogger, and Jon nods at her with a smile. She doesn't look twice at him, but Jon can hardly blame her. He sees the aftermath of bad incidents almost every day, and he knows that a lot of those incidents are caused by men. 

(“ **_I hope it's you”_ ** ) 

He and Ghost were on the way home from the trails before he was interrupted again by his buzzing phone. He saw Ygrittes’ name displayed across his screen and answered it.

"Hey," She starts, "Remember how you're an EMT?"

Jon laughs a little.

"Um, yeah? What's up?"

"My brothers’ concussion, is it like, healed now? All the way? He's too lazy to google it and neither of us really listened for shit at the hospital."

"Ygritte!" He scolds, "That's dangerous! You need to listen to your medical professionals, they’re trained and know a lot more than you on the subject." 

"God, Jon how are you twenty-fucking-five and still such a  _ dweeb _ ," 

"I'm sorry, is this is the new way people ask for favors?" 

"....Please." 

"Thank you. Alright, let me preface this by saying that just ‘cause I'm an EMT doesn't mean I'm a Doctor or anything. A concussion can take anywhere from 10 to 15 days to heal completely, I'd give it another day or two to be safe." 

He heard a frustrated,  _ male _ voice growl from the other end of the phone. Jon's mouth was open before he could even think to catch himself. 

"Wait is he there now? Can he hear me?" 

(Great, you idiot. Now you sound like a lovestruck preteen.) 

Ygritte laughs at him. 

"Oh aye, he's here. I tried giving him your number so he could call you himself but he was too chicken - Hey! Don't fuckin' hit me!" 

Jon snorts and thinks of his own siblings.

(Tormund didn't want to call him?) 

"Anyway, now he knows he can't go out and get plastered, so thanks! Byyyyee!!!!"

With that, the line goes dead and Jon is left with a pit of dread in his stomach. 

Had Tormund heard him preaching? Jon felt like burying himself in a twenty-foot hole. Try as he might he hadn't been able to get him out of his mind. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he’s been frequently dreaming of strong, calloused hands and red hair. 

He wonders why Tormund had wanted to go drinking, but then sternly tells himself it's none of his business. 

The weeks speed by, and he gets a text from a random number one day while having lunch with Sam. 

_ Hey, its Tormund. Ygritte gave me your cell. I wanted to say thanks for helping me. _

Jon is a little ashamed to admit that he  _ freaks _ out. 

He hurriedly put the number in his under a new contact.

"Ahhh Saaaammmmm! What do I do? What do I say!?" 

Sam blinks at him tiredly, and Jon feels a twinge of guilt because he's been hearing about Tormund from Jon since the day they picked him up. 

"I don't know Jon, texting him back might be a good place to start."

"Yeah, I know-" 

"Jon." 

He shuts his mouth.

\-----------

He  _ does _ , eventually, text Tormund back. He spent entirely too long debating what to say, but he does text him back. 

Jon was worried it would be awkward, but really it was  _ easy _ , and before Jon knew what was happening they were taking every day. 

On one Monday about a month after they started talking, Jon forgets to get lunch and is complaining about it to Tormund.

_ T: Hey, aren't you near that new chicken place?  _

_ J: Yeah why?  _

_ T: I am too. Let's meet for lunch?  _

_J: Sounds_ _like a plan :)_

When he gets there, he feels a little self-conscious about being in his uniform but then he sees Tormund waving him over to a table. 

Tormund is covered in oil and grease from the shop, (Tormund is a car mechanic, he as he found out during one of their many conversations) so he's not as anxious anymore. 

They have an  _ amazing _ time, and Jon rides the high for the rest of his week. Sam notices of course, but doesn’t say anything. (Jon notes that his best friend deserves one hell of a Christmas present and files the information away in his head for later.) 

On the following weekend, he wants to ask Tormund to dinner, but he hesitates. 

He's not sure if dinner together off-hours is different than lunch together while working, but- 

But he really wants to see him. 

So Jon decides to say fuck it and he takes the plunge. He wonders if this would have any negative repercussions. 

_ J: Do you want to go to dinner with me this Saturday? There's a steakhouse house I've been meaning to try out _

Tormund responds almost instantaneously, much to Jon's delight. 

_ T: That one on Baelors' street? Sounds great, Pick you up at 6?  _

_ J: See you then :)  _

Tormund shows up to his place at 5:50 in a button-down shirt and slacks. Jon is quite cleaned up himself, not that either of them mentions it.

Tormund opens the car door for Jon, pulls out his chair for him, pours his wine. 

Jon finds himself more and more smitten with every passing moment. 

By the end of the night, he and Tormund have gotten  _ just _ the right amount of tipsy, and have been trading... _ loaded  _ glances since Jon's second glass of wine. 

Tormund calls himself and Jon a cab home, insisting he pays for both. He grins at Jon through the car window as it pulls away and Jon feels something click in his chest. 

Neither of them ever called it a  _ date  _ but that's what it feels like.

After that, things start to feel different between them. 

Texting turns into phone calls. Lunch meet-ups become more frequent.

On their fourth time out to dinner, Tormund kisses him goodbye outside his apartment door, and Jon has a small seizure. 

_ His first real kiss after a date gone well _ ,

he thinks, half giddy.

He thinks about it until his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. And then he thinks about it some more because he just can't seem to  _ stop.  _

(He also jerks off 3 times that night to the thoughts of Tormunds' mouth. He wonders if he might have a problem.)

(' _ Do you even want to stop?'  _ a small voice whispers in his head. ' _ No,'  _ Jon thinks back,  _ 'I don't think I do.') _

The next time they go out its Tormund who asks him and takes him to see drag racing on a beautiful Sunday. 

(Sometimes he fixes cars for the drivers on special orders, he explains during a break in the race, and they'll give him free tickets) 

Jon wasn't sure he'd be too interested in it, mostly saying yes to spend time with Tormund, but he finds himself getting into it. 

Before he knows it he's screaming and cheering in sync with the rest of the crowd, eagerly awaiting the next takeover. 

(He doesn't notice Tormund staring at him in wonderment) 

As the afternoon slides into evening Jon starts to shiver. He'd only worn a t-shirt, and the chill was starting to set over his skin. He jumps a little (and squeaks, but don't tell anyone-) when Tormund wraps an arm around him and pulls him in close. 

Jon finds himself faced with a choice, and he chooses to relax into Tormunds' side, leaching his warmth like a cat the does the sun. He doesn't even try to keep the smile off his face as Tormunds' hand finds a comfortable place on his waist, and it already feels  _ familiar _ . 

They stay like that, connected until they split to go their separate ways home. Jon tells Tormund that he'll call him. 

"The next date is on me, Tormund! This was actually awesome, and I have no idea how I'm going to top it, but I will!" 

"There's no doubt in my mind that you'll  _ try," _

"-Oh, you are  _ on-"  _

"Wanna bet?"

At this point, they're nose to nose. Tormund has herded Jon into the side of the stadium, and he gasps as his back is pressed against the cold metal. 

The gasp is swallowed by Tormund as he seals their mouths together, his tongue lapping Jon's lower lip once before slipping  _ inside _ . It curls under his own tongue as hands roam his torso, pausing at his nipples to thumb them through his shirt. 

Jon has never been touched like this before, he realizes with a jolt. He'd never even been kissed like this before. The thought hits him with such ferocity he breaks away from Tormund, and the other man backs off immediately. He starts to apologize, but Jon waves him off.

"Seriously it's okay. It was nothing  _ you _ did." 

Tormund stares at him for several long moments until it clicks that he wants further explanation. Jon sighs, as he was hoping to avoid this conversation entirely. 

"It was just...new. it caught me off guard is all. But I liked it."

"...New." 

Jon swallows. He guesses that what Tormund had been doing to him was pretty basic stuff.

"I uh..I'm-I'mavirgin,"

Jon chokes it out as fast as possible, and he watches in dismay as Tormunds' eyebrows shoot to his hairline. He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for the reaction he fears will be cruel. 

"You? You're a-, a-, - _ you?! _ " 

Jon cracks and eye open to find Tormund still staring at him, gaping like a fish. 

"What do you mean?"

"Jon, you are one of the most attractive people I've ever met. Not to mention you're funny, smart, kind; You're literally the whole package! It's just surprising."

~~~~~~(Tormund’s Pov)~~~~~~~

Jon is flushed a pale pink, and Tormund finds it all the more unbelievable that no one had ever taken him to bed. He feels a rush of heat curl in his belly and his skin prickles with heat. He presses Jon back into the wall of the stadium and leans down to whisper in his ear. 

"I can show you if you want," 

He slips a knee between Jon's thighs and nips his way down his throat. Jon is gasping softly and is starting to arch into him. He pulls back to look at Jon and is met with a flushed face and red, bitten lips. He has the sudden urge to devour Jon whole, but he waits.

"Jon? Is that what you want?" He starts lightly kissing down Jon's neck again. 

"What will you- oh! -What will you show me?" 

He chuckles into Jon's ear and revels in the small squeak it earns him. 

"Anything, everything. Whatever you want," 

He rocks his hips into Jons' and he feels him stiffen, but not in the good way. He pushes lightly at Tormunds shoulders and he takes several large steps backward. 

"I'm sorry, was that too far?" 

He watches Jon breath for a moment, before his face cracks open smiles at him, that brilliant, blinding white smile Tormund remembers from the hospital. 

"Just a touch. It's alright, please don't feel bad. Would it be okay if we took things a little slower?" 

"Of course, Jon. We'll go whatever speed you want " 

He makes his voice as soft as he can possibly manage it. The last thing he wants is for Jon to think he's  _ disappointed  _ with him somehow. 

Jon smiles his "theworldisgoingtokeepspinning" smile and Tormund instantly, irrationally wants to make sure it stays on his face forever. 

He tucks Jon back under his arm and the two of them make their way back to where Tormund had earlier parked his truck. Neither of them had done any drinking, despite the various alcohol being sold. 

Tormund had wanted to be sober for this, and  _ aware.  _ He is completely fascinated with Jon in a way he's never been with anyone else. 

Jon looks out the window as he drives him home, and Tormunds' brain starts replaying their earlier conversation. 

He finds himself analyzing Jon's kisses, his reactions. He knows that if he wants to know  _ for certain  _ he'll have to just ask Jon, but even though he's only known him for a month or so he understands that Jon is a very private person. He might not answer his questions at all. But Tormund needs to know how far Jon has gone, so he can figure out Jon's boundaries. 

He wants to know  _ everything _ about him.

He pulls up to Jon's street and puts the truck in park. Jon still hasn't said much, and Tormund is worried he may have pushed it too far. 

He clears his throat. 

"I'm..I'm sorry, about earlier." 

Jon's head snaps up and whips towards him, and Tormund is met with wide grey eyes. 

"Tormund, I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for. You stopped when I asked you too, that's all anyone can ask for." 

Tormund looks at him intently, but he sees or hears no evidence of a lie. 

"Okay. I have a question then but don't feel obligated to answer because it really  _ doesn't _ matter. How far have you gone with someone? I just want to know so I can stay within your comfort zone." 

Jon's going bright red and he stares straight ahead. Tormund swears he can see the little gears turning in Jon's brain. He mumbles something that Tormund can’t quite hear, and Tormund raises an eyebrow at him. 

"I just...I don't want you to freak out. Or be ‘weird’," 

"Jon," he interrupts, "Please, trust me, there's nothing you could say that would make me want to stop seeing you." 

He hops out of his truck and goes around to open Jon's door for him.

Jon smiles that beautiful smile again, and Tormund finds himself thinking of ways to keep it on his face forever. 

They walk up to Jon's apartment door, and he leans against the wall before he goes inside. 

"Now are you going to answer my question?" 

Jon sighs and runs a hand through his curls.

( _ Oh, _ how Tormund wants to shove his  _ own _ hands into Jon's hair and guide him-) 

"It’s just….before you…" 

"What?" Tormund prompts. He wants to know. 

"Before you, I hadn't even been kissed properly." 

Tormund feels his own jaw  _ drop _ , and something in his brain snaps. All he can think is  _ how? _ He sucks in a breath, knowing if he waits to respond Jon could get the wrong idea. 

"That's okay, Jon. That's fine. I mean sure, I guess it's a little bit surprising but it’s not like it’s  _ bad."  _

He can see the uncertainty in Jon's eyes and he leans over and takes his chin in his hand, tilting his face up close. Their lips are barely brushing, and Jon's mouth opens to him. Tormund teases him, smirking and staying just out of reach of his mouth until Jon is gasping, and trying to arch into him. 

He finally kisses him, sealing their lips together, and then he  _ feels _ the tension run out of Jon's bones. He hums against Tormunds' mouth, opening up to him easily. He crowds Jon back against his apartment door, kissing and kissing until Tormund starts to feel dizzy. 

When he finally breaks away Jon's eyes are still closed, and there's a ghost of a smile on his lips. He traces a plump bottom lip with his thumb, relishing in the softness of it. He can't help but wonder what those lips would feel like  _ elsewhere _ . 

He shakes the thought from his head and looks down at Jon who is still smiling up at him sweetly,  _ so sweetly,  _ Tormund feels his chest is about to burst. 

Jon reaches behind him and fumbles for the doorknob. 

"Goodnight, Tormund." 

He says it in a light, happy-sounding voice that Tormund can't help but copy. 

"Goodnight Jon." 

He walks back out to his truck and gets in. When the door closes behind him he chuckles and has to rest his head on the steering wheel as his head rushes with thoughts. 

How had he gotten this lucky? Jon is  _ incredible  _ and  _ amazing _ , and Tormund  _ still _ can't understand how he could still be a virgin.

'Maybe it’s a religious thing,' he muses. 

He starts the truck and starts his journey home. 

  
  


He thinks of Jon the entire way there. 

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jon tries to convince Tormund to come and meet his family, they go on a few domestic journeys.  
> (That's it. That's the Chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one took a little longer!  
> Now I know I said there might be smut in this chapter, but I got carried away writing the mundane, so bear with me.  
> Chapter 4 is already in the works!!   
> Hope you guys like it :)

Jon feels his face flush and he averts Tormunds gaze, staring resolutely at the ground. He didn't want to look up and see the revulsion he knows will be there. 

He squeaks when he's pressed against the cool metal of the wall again. 

He doesn't feel the temperature for long though, a warm body pressed against his own. 

Tormunds hot breath ghosts the shell of Jon's ear as he whispers to him,

"I can show you if you want." 

Jon isn't sure if he keeps talking after that, because instead he has been entirely distracted by the sudden presence of a large, warm thigh pressing in between his own. The pressure felt nice. 

Very nice. 

Tormund teeth nip a trail down the side of his neck, and Jon finds himself unable to hold back the gasps that want to leap from his throat. He arches his back when Tormund bites him softly, but instead of staying where he was or going lower the older man pulls back to look at him. 

His eyes are half-lidded, and from what Jon is able to see his pupils are blown wide. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Tormund is talking again. 

"-that what you want?" His lips return to Jon's neck, and he tilts his head to give him better access. 

"What will you- Oh!," 

He gasps as Tormund sucks on a spot he found Jon likes. 

"What will you show me?" 

Jon squeaks at the deep chuckle next to his ear. 

"Anything," Gets growled low next to his head. 

"Everything. Whatever you want," Tormund is starting to sound breathless now, and Jon feels his own heart pounding at the speed of a hummingbirds. He idly wonders if Tormund can hear it, thumping wildly away in his chest. 

Then Tormund shifts and he  _ ruts _ against Jon, and he can feel a hard line in his partner’s pants. 

Just like that, the arousal that had been building in him was gone. He feels like he's been thrown head-first into a snowbank naked, and more than anything he would like to stop being touched. 

He pushes at Tormund’s shoulders, and to Jon's immense relief he backs off immediately.

"I'm sorry, was that too far?" 

His reaction is one of concern rather than annoyance, and Jon finds himself beaming. 

"Just a touch. It's alright, please don't feel bad. Would it be okay if we took things a little slower?" 

  
  
  


"Of course, Jon. We'll go whatever speed you want " 

  
  


He tucks Jon back under his arm (Oh, so very warm compared to the nights chill,) and they walk back to Tormunds' beat-up truck. 

On the drive back to his place Jon is staring out the window, lost in his head until Tormund clears his throat. 

Jon squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for what he thinks will be an awkward conversation that ends in the typical 'Really, you're so sweet, but I don't think we're gonna  _ work- _ ' speech he's gotten from so many others. 

What comes out of Tormunds' mouth instead surprises him. 

"I'm..I'm sorry, about earlier." 

Jon snaps his head up and is met with Tormund staring resolutely out of the windshield. 

"Tormund, I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for. You stopped when I asked you too, that's all anyone can ask for." 

  
  
  


Tormund glances at him for a minute before backing down and looking away. 

"Okay. I have a question then, but don't feel obligated to answer because it really  _ doesn't _ matter. How far have you gone with someone? I just want to know so I can stay within your comfort zone."

Jon gulps, and he can feel himself blushing, but he knows he won't be able to get away with not answering. 

He stares straight out through the windshield, and as fast as he can manage he shoots out-

"BeforeyouIhadn'tevenbeenkissed." 

Tormund looks at him with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow and Jon groans a little in defeat. 

Tormund wasn't fluent with Jons’ mumbling yet. (He knew he had a habit of it,)

"I just...I don't want you to freak out. Or be ‘weird’." 

Tormund snorts and interrupts him. 

"Jon, trust me, there is literally next to nothing you could say to me right now that would make me want to stop seeing you." 

He jumps out of the truck and circles around to get Jon's door for him. 

' _ Such a gentleman _ ,' Jon thinks dreamily while smiling at him. 

He walks Jon all the way to his doorstep, stopping only when Jon turns to look at him. 

He's standing a step down from where Jon is, and he finds his eyes drawn to the other mans' mouth once again. 

"Are you going to answer my question now?" 

Jon runs a hand through his hair in contemplation, frustrated with himself for being so anxious. He knows Tormund won't hold anything against him, he'd said so himself, but that didn't mean Jon's anxieties couldn't (and wouldn't) try and mess with him anyway. 

With a little prompting, Tormund manages to drag the truth out of Jon.

"Before you, I hadn't even been kissed properly." 

Tormunds jaw looks like it'll hit the stone steps with the way it’s hanging, and Jon finds himself having to look away in embarrassment.

Tormund trying to reassure him but Jon  _ knows- _

Just then, there's a hand on his chin. It tilts his face upwards and warm breath meets his mouth. A pair of soft lips graze over his own and Jon finds his mouth opening. 

Tormund teases him, floating just of reach with his impossible height. 

He stays like that until Jon is gasping up at him, before  _ finally _ leaning down the rest of the way and sealing their lips together. 

Jon melts back against his front door, Tormund follows him. He's dimly aware that his hands have made themselves at home in Tormunds' thick locks, and when the other man sucked on his bottom lip he couldn't help his whimper. 

When Tormund breaks away, Jon can't help but keep his eyes shut, trying to keep the memory of lips pressed against his own alive in his mind forever. 

A thumb swipes across his bottom lip, and he shudders at the feeling. He blinks his eyes open at Tormund, smiling at him warmly. 

Jon reaches blindly behind him and starts fumbling for the doorknob. 

They say goodnight and Jon watches Tormund walk back to his truck from the window. 

As he gets ready to sleep that night, he finds his mind going back to snippets of his and Tormunds conversations throughout their day.

He feels his face crack open into a grin, and he knows he looks like an idiot but he can't bring himself to stop. 

Is this what the aftermath of every date with Tormund would be like? 

~~~~~

  
  
  
  


Weeks bleed into months, and the next time Jon looks up it's late October, and his birthday is fast approaching. He and Tormund have only gotten closer, but Jon worries he may be starting to get impatient. 

They still haven’t had sex yet, haven't done anything more than wonderful, wonderful kissing-but so far Tormund seems completely unbothered by this.

What he is bothered by is meeting people, apparently. 

"Tormund, come on, it's just dinner-" 

"It is  _ not _ just dinner, Jon! It's your  _ birthday _ dinner with your  _ entire family!  _ I think I'm allowed to freak about it a little." 

Jon sighs into the phone that he has jammed between his shoulder and his ear. Making plans with his boyfriend (' _ boyfriend.' a little voice in his head always giggles when he referred to Tormund as such)  _ was difficult enough already with their conflicting schedules, without his boyfriend purposely throwing one of his wrenches into things. 

He'd been trying to convince Tormund to come to Family Dinner with him for nearly three weeks now, and he still wouldn't budge.

But this weekend was Jon's 26th Birthday, and he knew that Tormund would have a hard time saying no. 

"Babe, it's going to be fine. We've been dating for  _ months _ now. I think it's time you met them."

"Really Jon, I don't know-" 

A flash of uncertainty chills his bones. He tries his best to shake it off and redoubles his efforts. 

"Tormund, please don't back out.  _ I  _ want you to meet them. I want the other people in my life to know who you are." 

There's a long silence on the other end of the line and Jon panics slightly, wondering if he went too far. 

"...You're such a fucking sap, Snow." 

Jon snorts into the phone, chest flushing with relief. 

"Only when it comes to you, Giantsbane." 

Tormund hums on the other end of the phone but doesn't say anything. Jon thinks he can almost see him. 

Sitting on the couch in his apartment, gazing out the window with the phone to his ear. Contemplating. 

Jon sighs again and shakes his hands free of dishwater. 

"How about I talk to my parents and we have dinner with them on Wednesday night instead of Friday? That way we can still go out for my actual birthday, no matter if dinner goes well or not. Oh!! I know, we can go for dancing and drinks!" 

"Jon are you sure- wait-"

Tormund chokes mid-sentence on a laugh, and Jon juts out his lower lip in a pout even though he knows Tormund can't actually see him. 

"Dancing? Really? I didn't think you'd be one for the club scene." 

"Hey, it's fun! As long as they play decent music and serve good drinks I'm happy." 

"Whatever you say, little crow. Dinner and dancing it is." 

Jon's mood perks up instantly. 

"That's great news. Ugh, every birthday since I was 20 my parents have asked me why I haven't brought someone home yet. I can't believe this year I get to surprise them," 

(Jon hadn't told his parents about them yet, in any capacity. He made sure Tormund knew that it wasn't because of him, though. He explained that it was a tendency of his family to go overboard with things and that he often worried that if he ever  _ did _ find someone his large family would scare them off.) 

"I do  _ want _ to meet your family Jon, I'm just nervous is all. What if I forget someone's name? What if they set the hounds on me?" 

Jon laughs and leans back on his couch, wishing he were actually with Tormund right now. 

"I'll be bringing Ghost, you know he'd protect you," 

Tormunds laughs with him and Jon's heart flutters in his chest. He loves it when he can make Tormund laugh. 

"Look, it's only Sunday, so if you want you can come over and I'll tell you all about everyone, and quiz you, so you'll know your stuff when they try and interrogate you." 

His boyfriend gives another deep chuckle and Jon is reminded of the way he laughed in his ear that night at the races. He tries hard to push the thought to the back of his brain for later.

"Okay. When should I be there?" 

Jon looked over at his clock.

"Holy shit it's two o'clock?"

He'd lost track of time again.

"Hm, I've got a few errands to run, do you want to come over for dinner? We could order pizza," 

"Sure, that works. If you want I can just pick you to do your errands too," 

"Wait I thought you got called in for work?" 

"Nah they just texted me, Mance is already there." 

"Oh, awesome! In that case, yes absolutely come and get me."

"Alright, I'm on my way. See you in 10." 

"Okay, bye!" 

"Bye." 

Jon hangs up and darts to the bathroom. He runs a brush hurriedly through his hair while trying to brush his teeth at the same time. 

He's just slipping on his jacket when he sees Tormunds truck pulling up. 

He scurries down the porch stairs and jumps in the passenger's seat, and he's barely closed the door behind him when Tormund fists the front of his shirt and hauls him in for a kiss.

For several seconds Jon finds himself overwhelmed by lips and a tongue, and when they separate he feels sated. He hadn't realized how much he'd been craving a kiss from his boyfriend. ( _ His boyfriend! _ )

"Well hello to you too." 

Tormund laughs. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Just the grocery store. I'm low on pretty much everything, and I need to get a few things for Wednesday." 

Tormund hums at him and starts driving, and Jon lets himself take joy in the simple domesticity of it all. He doubles checks his list and listens to Tormunds strange music. He liked to order random CDs online from bands he liked the look of. Jon told him he was crazy. 

(But he actually really enjoys the Icelandic Punk he found in Tormunds collection) 

The shopping itself was relatively uneventful, but Jon's heart was speeding in his chest the whole time. It was like whenever he was around Tormund, his body was working double time. It registered every time their arms brushed, and each time Tormund 'accidentally' bumped into him. Jon counted himself lucky it was cool enough in the store to justify keeping his jacket on, otherwise, he knew he'd be even more distracted. The jacket provided a much-needed buffer, especially if he was expected to  _ remember  _ what was on his list without checking it every five seconds. 

They spend almost two and a half hours in the store, but it only took them that long since they couldn't stop messaging around. Tormund was a  _ menace _ in the produce department, waving around every phallic like shape he could find until Jon was wheezing. 

He was also guilty of shooting Jon with a Nerf Gun from the Toy Section, adding an entire  _ liter _ of sauerkraut to the cart, and shoving one of those little-kid animal hats onto Jon's head.

(It had tiny wolf ears on top. Even Jon had to admit it was pretty cute.) 

In conclusion, Tormund was the best person Jon had gone shopping with,  _ ever _ . 

☆☆☆

He helped Jon haul the bags into his apartment before flopping on his couch, cell-phone already in his hand to order pizza.

"What kind do you want?"

He asks Jon over his shoulder, and Jon leans over the couch to tap on the other mans' phone. 

"Just my normal order I guess. What about you? In the mood for anything special?" 

"Nah," 

Tormund hums back,

"Not really."

He rests his head in the back of the couch, looking up at Jon. 

"Tell me about your family," He starts, and Jon jumps on the topic. 

"Oh yeah! So, including my parents, there are eight of us, me, my brother Robb, my sisters Sansa and Arya, and my two younger brothers Bran and Rickon. My parents' names are Eddard and Catelyn Stark, but  _ please  _ just call then Ned and Cat or I swear on every deity out there you will  _ never  _ live it down." 

Tormund nodded, looking incredibly focused. 

"Oh yeah, you'll probably meet Theon too. He's not technically one of my brothers, but he's been around for pretty much as long as I can remember. Fair warning, he likes to tease."

Tormund snorts.

"I'd like to see him try and tease me to my face. Especially if he's anywhere near as scrawny as you!"

Jon smirks. 

"I'd quite like to see him try, too. It'd be hilarious to see Theon piss himself-hey!" 

Jon squawks when Tormund grabs his shoulders and drags him down onto the couch with him. 

Tormund has shifted them so he's lying on his back, with Jon on top of him. Their faces are inches apart, and Jon leans in for a kiss. Tormund reciprocates, kissing him back lazily like it was the most nonchalant thing in the world. 

Jon is still relatively new to kissing, but ever since Tormund had shown him (very patiently and thoroughly, mind you) why people enjoyed it so much he hadn't been able to get enough. Jon hums when Tormunds' hands wrap around his waist, enjoying the warm the spreads through him like honey. 

They don't stop until the delivery guy knocks on Jons' door. 

(They only notice because Ghost started barking) 

When he answers the guy smirks at him, but Jon can't figure out why until he catches his reflection in the door of the microwave. 

He looks  _ wrecked.  _

His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and even in the dark reflection of the door, he can tell that his lips are swollen and redder than normal. 

He sets the pizza on the counter and buries his face in his hands, embarrassment ringing through him. 

He feels Tormund walk up behind him and he settles a hand on Jons' hip. 

"What is it?" 

"The delivery guy thinks I'm a slut," 

Tormund chokes and starts cackling, and Jon elbows him in the ribs. 

"It's not funny! Do you know how often I order from them? If I  _ ever _ see him again it'll be too soon," 

"Oh, I'm sorry,"

Tormund coos and Jon knows he's making fun of him. 

He still leans his weight back into Tormunds' chest, sighing. 

"No, you're not, you oaf." 

He feels Tormunds' smile as he nuzzles into the side of Jon's neck. 

"Let's eat. I'm starved," 

He reaches past Jon's head for plates, and Jon ducks under his arm to head for the fridge. 

He grabs a couple of cans of soda and meets Tormund on the couch, where he's lined up some action-comedy on Netflix. 

"Shove over," he grunts, kicking at Tormunds' leg lightly. He responds by grabbing a fistful of Jons' shirt and yanking him down. 

He lands in a heap on Tormunds' lap, and the other man adjusts him as if he's nothing more than an oddly-shaped blanket. 

Jon huffs, but he can't keep the smile off of his face. 

When the movies over, Tormund stands and stretches, leaving Jon sprawled across the couch. When his arms raised over his head his shirt slides up, and Jon's eyes are immediately drawn to a slip of the skin of his newly-exposed abdomen.

He drinks his fill, his eyes never straying from the freckled skin until the shirt lowers back down to cover it. When he looks up and meets Tormunds eyes, the other man is looking at him in a way that means Jon is  _ certain  _ he noticed. He feels himself blush again, and Tormund chuckles and leans down for another kiss. 

"It's late, I should get going," He mumbles against Jons' mouth. 

"I know," Jon sighs back. 

The break apart and Jon walks Tormund to the door. 

"I'll see you on Wednesday?" He asks, already knowing the answer. 

"' Course, little crow. I'll be here to pick you up at 5:30, right?" 

"Right," Jon confirms. 

Tormund kisses him one last time, standing in the doorway. 

After they part Jon watches him all the way until he's pulling his truck out into the street.

He hopes Wednesday goes alright. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon introduces Tormund to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoy it!

The conversation with his parents goes swimmingly, and Wednesday comes sooner than he expected. He spent the day half-distracted, his mind on his evening plans. 

How would his family react to Tormund? How would Tormund react to his family? 

By the time he's closing his locker at the end of his shift, he's on his way to a legitimate nervous breakdown. 

Sam sees his trouble and tries to talk to him about it. 

"What's on your mind, Jon? You've been off your game all day." 

Jon weighs on the benefits of answering him and decides it'd be better to get it off his chest then keep burying it. 

He sighs.

"I'm bringing Tormund to meet my family tonight. I haven't told them yet. I'm feeling stressed out about it." 

"Jon, do they know-" 

"Do they know I like men? Yeah, I came out as Bisexual to them when I was like 15. They're fine with it, mostly. Though I think my Mum would rather me bring home a woman than a man." 

"Okay, so what are you worried about?" 

"What if they don't like him?" His voice sounds far more vulnerable than he intended, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sam looking at him. 

"Do  _ you  _ like him?" His voice is soft, and Jon can't bring himself to look at his friend in the face. 

" _ Of course _ I like him. I like him a lot." 

"Then so will your family. Jon, we've known each other for what, seven, almost eight years now?" 

Jon nodded. He and Sam had met during their EMT training when Jon was 18. 

"This is literally the happiest I've _ever_ seen you. Excluding today, of course, seeing as you're a nervous wreck." 

Jon snorts. He may be a  _ little _ bit of a wreck. 

"Your family's going to see that too, I promise."

Jon finally looks at his friend, and he smiles.

"Thanks, Sam." 

"Anytime man." 

He walks to his car feeling a hundred times better and feeling eternally grateful for his friend. 

◇◇◇

Tormund was late. 

It was only a few minutes before six, and his mind was running rampant with worst-case-scenarios. 

Had something happened with work? 

Had he gotten in an accident driving over? 

Oh god, what if he changed his mind and wasn't coming at all? Fuck, that was it wasn't it? He finally realized that being with Jon was a stupid idea from the beginning-

The doorbell knocks him from his worry, and he all but sprints to the door to fling it open. 

Tormund is standing on the other side, looking sheepish. 

"'m sorry I'm late. I had a little car trouble on the way over and my phone decided that  _ this _ was the optimal day to shit the bed." 

Jon rose up to land a quick peck on his lips. 

"It's fine. You're here, that's what matters. Come on, let's get going. We can take my car." 

Tormund helps him load Ghost into the back of his car and get him settled, and then the two of them are on their way. 

The drive is silent other than Jon's heart pounding in his ears. His hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel, and he tries his hardest to keep his breathing steady. 

"Jon, are you okay?" The break in the silence startles him, and he hopes Tormund hadn't noticed him jump. 

He looks over and smiles at the redhead.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just nervous. This is my first time bringing somebody home," 

He tried to give the other man a smile, but he knows it must be weak. His nerves are wreaking havoc on his mind. 

"It'll be fine! I even promise to be on my best behavior," 

That gets a laugh out of Jon because he knows that Tormunds 'best behavior' meant he would try not to swear and he wouldn't physically hurt someone. 

"I know it will be. You're right, everything's going to be okay," he looks over at Tormund long enough to give a small but genuine smile before focusing back on the road. 

Jon was trying his hardest to believe him, but his anxieties still held his chest tight and his breathing taught. 

Tormunds startles him again a moment later, this time with a hand of Jon's knee. It doesn't go anywhere, just sitting there, and Jon realizes that Tormund is trying to comfort him. 

His heart melts in his chest, and he lets one of his hands fall from the wheel and pick up Tormunds. He lifts the hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it before letting their now intertwined hands fall back to rest on his leg. 

Jon doesn't look at him, but he squeezes his hand in thanks. Tormund squeezes back, still silent. 

He's gotten quite good at knowing when Jon needed his quiet. 

They make the rest of the drive in comfortable silence. (Unless you count Ghost occasionally chuffing in the back) 

When they pull into the driveway of his family home, he finds his lungs have stopped working again. He's taking short, staggered breaths, and he tries to calm his racing heart. 

He breathes in deep and looks to Tormund with a strained smile.

"Ready to meet my family?" Tormund smiles back at him, this one much more genuine. 

"Ready as I'll ever be, little crow. Let's go," 

They get out together and Jon gets Ghosts leash. He's impatient, and Jon can tell he's excited to see all his siblings and littermates. 

He knocks on the door and instantly hears shouting and barking from within. He flicks his eyes up to Tormund who is watching him with a concerned look. 

"That's...a lot of barking. How many of him are there?" He asks, gesturing at Ghost

"Well, there’s Ghost, Greywind, Lady, Nymeria, Summer and Shaggy. So six," 

He laughs a little

"Six pups for six children. I remember when we first brought them home Mum was  _ livid _ that I'd somehow managed to convince my dad to let us," 

The memory brings a smile to his face. 

There's a clattering noise on the other side of the door and it flings open. Jon is immediately knocked backward by a small dark-haired blur, and he laughs and picks up his little sister to spin her. In the act he let's go of Ghosts leash, and he lopes into the house in search of the others. 

"Joooon!!! Oh, you're here!!!! We missed you so much!" 

Jon chuckles and ruffles Arya's hair. 

"I missed you guys too. Let's go inside hmm?" 

While trying to usher her back inside she stops dead and stares at Tormund. She whips back to him and Jon finds the Stark Stare drilling into his soul. 

"Who is this?" 

"Arya," Jon says slowly, 

"This is my boyfriend, Tormund. Tormund," He pauses to look up at the other man

"This is my youngest sister Arya." 

Arya steps towards Tormunds hulking form and cranes her neck to look him in the face. 

"Boyfriend huh? Okay," She slowly turns back towards Jon. 

"Let's go." 

Tormund catches Jon at the last second. 

"Is that the fencer?" 

"Yup." 

"Jon she's  _ terrifying."  _

" _ Yup _ ." 

He tugs Tormund the rest of the way in the house, and is met with the sights and smells of his childhood home.

"Jon!" They're greeted by the chorus of his family.

He grips Tormunds' hand and steps forward. 

Might as well bite the bullet and get introductions out of the way. 

"Hey everyone! This is Tormund, he's my boyfriend." 

Complete silence spread across the room faster than Jon could blink. His family was staring at him in complete surprise, and for a moment Jon thought time itself might be frozen for how long they were just  _ staring _ at each other.

Sansa was the one to break the spell. She stood up and walked over to Jon greeting him with an embrace. As she was pressed to his shoulder she hissed in his ear, 

"I cannot believe you didn't tell us you had a secret boyfriend! We are  _ so _ getting you back for this!" 

Jon viciously held down the laugh of hysteria bubbling in his chest and felt a part of himself flush with relief that Sansa had stepped up. 

When she released him she turned to Tormund and stuck out her hand, her signature dazzling smile on her face. 

Tormund stepped forward and took it with a genuine grin. 

"It's lovely to meet you Tormund." 

"Good to meet you too," 

As his sibling lined up to meet Tormund Jon noticed his parents lingering. Brushing Tormund's arm lightly as he passed, he walked over to them.

"Mum. Dad." 

His father came forward first and embraced him. That surprised Jon a little but he went with it. He'd never refuse a hug from his Dad. 

"Hello, Jon. How have you been? You don't come home enough my boy," 

He beamed at his father, even with the light guilt in his stomach for not visiting more often. 

"I've been really good, Dad. Really good. Swamped at work as usual, but nothing's been too bad. What about you and Mom?" 

At the mention of her name, his mother came to stand at his father's elbow. 

"We've been well, Jon. I'm so glad to hear you're doing okay," 

His mother's voice was soft, and a little hesitant, but there was no anger in her voice. 

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, wrapped a hand around his elbow and patting his arm. 

"Introduce your Father and I to this boyfriend of yours, will you? I need to make sure my son is in good hands," 

Jon laughed and walked his parents to where Tormund was shaking hands with Robb. Rickon was standing right behind him, waiting for his turn. 

Even at thirteen, it was obvious Rickon was going to be tall. He already towered over him and Arya, and he was quickly catching up to Robb. 

Jon let go of his mother and tapped his brothers back. Rickon turned slightly, and tackle hugged him with a laugh. He almost took Jon off his feet, but he didn't care. 

"Jon! Hi!!" 

"Hey man! How's it going?" 

"Really great-" 

Robb pushed past and embraced him, and Jon reciprocated. 

Rickon started to complain about cutting lines, and Bran took to opportunity to leap at Jon and ask him about life as an EMT. Feeling a little overwhelmed Jon raised his hands. 

"Okay, okay, we have all night!" He reached and grabbed Tormunds hand, pulling him forward. 

"Tormund, these are my parents." 

"Hi. It's good to meet you both, Jon's told me a lot about you." 

"I wish we could say the same. Oh well, plenty of time for that later. Come in, sit!" 

Jon's mother was in full hostess mode, and he found he couldn't be more thankful. At least when they were all sitting at the table Jon couldn't be physically overrun by his siblings. 

His mom had gone all out for dinner and made all of Jon's favorites. The kitchen smelled like freshly baked rolls and cooked meat. There were candles on the long dining table, and a wine glass waiting for everyone but Bran and Rickon. 

He sits between Tormund and Arya, right across from Robb. His brother is grinning at him and Jon swears he sees Robbs' phone is his hand. 

"Hey Tormund, want to see a picture of Jon in tenth grade?" 

" _ Yes!" _

Jon shoots to his feet. 

"Don't you dare Stark! Don't you do it!" 

Robb tosses his phone over Jon's head and when he turns Tormund is staring at the screen. Jon feels his heart sink. 

"Oh my god-" 

He covers his face with his hands. 

In tenth grade, he had a  _ hard _ goth phase, makeup and all. 

" _ Oh my god, Jon _ -" 

He snatched Robbs' phone away from Tormund and deleted the picture. 

"Noooooo!! I had that for so long!" Robb cried,

Jon chucked Robbs' phone at his head, huffing when his brother caught it with ease. 

"They'll be no more of that, thank you very much!" 

His mother entered the dining room carrying a tray of rolls, his father behind her a massive pot. 

Jon's mouth started watering on sight, and he swallowed reflexively. 

"So is this cow?" Tormund asks.

"No, its Elk actually," says Bran, "Its Jon's favorite." 

Tormund shot him a look out of the corner of his eye because Jon knows he hadn't told him that. 

He shrugs. "It never really came up in conversation, Tor. 'Hey, what do you want for dinner? 'Oh, I don't know how about  _ Elk?' _ " 

Tormund considers his words with a tilted head.

"Yeah okay, that's pretty fair." 

As dinner begins Jon finally begins to calm and enjoy himself. The worry that he has carried throughout his day is, at last, starting to loosen its hold on his chest.

He looking out the sliding glass doors to the back yard and watches Ghost run and play with the other dogs. 

He really should visit more. 

The night goes by with laughter and good-natured talking. Jon doesn’t have more than a single glass of wine, (Even though it's a beautiful Rosé, his favorite) and makes sure his stomach is full before he even touches it. 

The last he wants to do tonight is accidentally get drunk. 

By the time they're done with dinner Jon's nerves have completely vanished, both due to the help of the wine and the fact that his family seems to like Tormund. 

"Cake time!" Rickon declares, presenting a white frosted monstrosity. Sitting on the tilted top was a very crooked lit candle in the shape of the number 26. 

"I made it myself," he says proudly. 

Jon beams at him. "It looks great, Rick. Got a knife?" 

Rickon sets the cake on the table and sprints for the kitchen. While he's gone Jon casts an eye over everyone at the table, trying to convey with all his might 'Don't you dare ruin this for him'. 

Rickon reappears and sets the knife on the table. 

"First we sing!" He says, and Jon couldn't argue if he wanted to. 

As his family (and Tormund) start to sing he thinks about how lucky he is to have them all. 

He's so caught up in his thoughts he doesn't notice Sansa, Robb, and his mother has been taking photos of him the  _ entire _ time. 

When the song is over he closes his eyes and leans forward to blow out the candle. 

"Make a wish," Says Tormund

' _ I wish to keep you,'  _ Jon thinks and blows. 

While Jon cuts and distributes cake, his father is tinkering away at something in the living room. 

Just as Jon plates the last piece he calls for them. In the den his father has set up an old projector, and a DVD player. 

"So what do we look at first, Jon's baby pictures, or his and Robbs' high-school years?" 

"Baby pictures," Tormund pipes while sitting down on the couch 

"Definitely the baby pictures." 

Jon plops down and leans on him with a little laugh. 

"Whatever you say," He responds, and his father sets the slides up in the projector. 

He hits a button and the screen changes to show a tiny Jon and Robb in a crib together. 

"Wow, you had hair like this even then?" 

"Yup," Jon hums and shakes his head a little. 

"Had this glorious mane my whole life," 

His Dad snorts. 

"Only because this was your first haircut," He hits the button again and Jon sees a photo of himself at no more than three, screaming his head off, little face beat red. The woman trying to cut his hair looks terrified to go anywhere near him with scissors due to all his flailing. 

"Even then I knew I'd look terrible bald." He deadpans, and he feels Tormunds chuckle rumble through him. 

The click rings through the room and Jon sees himself at 5, dressed for his very first day of school. 

The next photo is one of Jon in a hospital, holding a tiny bundle in his arms. 

"Oh, it's the day Arya was born!" Jon says, and he reaches over to nudge his sisters shoulder. 

"Look how small you were!" 

"Look how small I  _ still am _ ," she complains. 

"Psshh, okay little miss  _ Olympic Fencer _ , complain about your size," 

She whacks him, but Jon can tell there's no heat in it. He wouldn't even be bruised. 

They go through the rest of the photos with minimal comments. They see shots from Sansa old ballet recitals, Robbs elementary school plays, Brans little league baseball games. 

The last picture on the project is one of all five children crowded around their mother, who is laying in a hospital bed. In her arms, she's holding a newborn baby, and the other children are leaning in to try and catch a glimpse of its little face. 

"Shall we move to videos?" 

After a unanimous round of yeses, the DVD player gets hooked up. For a moment there's static, but then it pops into color. 

"Okay, guys say hi!!!" 

A tinny version of his mother's voice plays through the speakers. 

"Hi!!!" 

The footage was of all six of them, Jon and Robb at 12 and Rickon, not even 1, all dressed for Halloween. 

They're waving at the camera, empty pillowcases waving in the air. The screen cuts out and blinks back, showing the same scene but noticeably later into the evening. It’s being filmed from outside a room where the 5 older kids are dumping bags of candy both on top of and around tiny Rickon. 

The baby is giggling, and so are all the other children. The video cuts again and the sounds of their young voices negotiating candy trades fill the room. 

"Twelve caramel square for one can of soda." 

" _ Twelve?" _

"It's a  _ soda _ . It’s worth something." 

"That is just  _ criminal-" _

The camera rounds a corner to show Jon, Robb, and another boy around their age, all in varying states of undress from their costumes. 

Sansa was sat beside them, looking as if she’d rather be in her own room. 

“Oh look, its Theon!” says Robb, pointing at the screen. 

They were hoarding and trading candy, and it looked more like a war room than a dining room. 

"We went to all the same houses Jon, how did you manage you get  _ twice _ the soda everybody else got?" 

Young Jon laughs and shrugs. 

"I can't help it if the neighbors like me more. I mean, after all, which one of us put a baseball through the Boltons kitchen window last month?" 

"Hey! That's only speculation!" 

Little Sansa pulls a face in her Fairy Costume,

"Don't use Dad's lawyer talk, you sound weird." 

The footage cuts out to the sounds of Robbs spluttering. 

"Alright, what next?" 

◇◇◇◇◇

They stay until the sun has long since set, and the air has a distinct chill as Jon loads Ghost back into the car. 

His family had come out to see him and Tormund off, and he embraces his family one by one as he prepares to leave. 

"Don't be such a stranger," says his mother, ruffling his hair. 

"I'll try not to be." 

His father hugs him. 

"Happy Birthday, son." 

His chest fills with warmth and he smiles up at his father, returning the hug fiercely. 

"Thanks, Dad. I'll see you guys again soon," 

They shuffle inside and Jon is left alone with Arya. He steps forward and pulls her into a long hug. 

"It was good seeing you, little sister." 

She pulled back slightly and grinned up at him. 

"It was good seeing you too Jon." She looks to the car, where Tormund is patiently waiting for him. 

"You like him?" 

Jon laughs softly, 

"I do. Quite a lot, in fact. So please no poking him full of holes!"

She laughs at him for real then, her head tilted back towards the star-filled sky. 

"I won't, so long as he doesn't deserve it. You look happy though," 

She smiles softly at him, and Jon is once again reminded how many sides there are to his little sister. He grins back down at her, and he knows she can see his own softness just as well as he can see hers. He looks back and the car briefly before meeting her eyes again. 

"I am." 

"Good. You deserve it, you know." 

"I know." 

They spend another few seconds looking at one another before Arya inhales sharply and turns to go inside. 

"See you later, Jon." 

"Later." 

He walks back over to his car feeling light and airy. Tormund is scratching at Ghost head with one hand, the other is scrolling through his phone, presumably for music on the way home. 

Jon feels something click in his chest, and an odd feeling odd over him and he slides into the driver’s seat. 

"Everything okay?" Tormund asks concern dripping from his voice. 

Jon reaches over and wraps a hand in the collar of Tormunds shirt, yanking him in to meet Jon's mouth. 

The kiss is long, and filthy, and  _ wet,  _ and when Jon finally pulls back Tormund is staring at him with flushed cheeks and starry eyes. 

"Everything's perfect," He answers. 

"Let's go home, hmm?" 

Tormund hums his assent and he pulls out of the driveway, and Jon begins the journey home. 

The entire trip he is hyper-aware of Tormund in the seat next to him, and hear his breathing, and the shift of his clothing as he moves around in his seat. More than anything he wants to touch the redhead, but he keeps his focus on the road. They won't be able to do anything if Jon totals the car before they make it back to his apartment. 

When they pull up to his place he puts the car in park and grabs Ghosts leash, wanting to get him inside before he did anything rash. 

Thankfully, Tormund follows him up the stairs without having to be asked. He opens the door for Jon and takes off his shoes, going straight to the cupboard for a glass. 

As Ghost pads deeper into the apartment Jon finds now that he doesn't have the distraction of driving he cannot take his eyes off the other man. He watches Tormund fill a glass with water from the sink and finds his eyes tracing up and down the man's throat as he swallows. 

Tormund sets the glass down onto the counter and raises an eyebrow at Jon. 

"What are you starting at, Snow?" 

Whatever dam had been holding Jon's inhibitions breaks, and he crosses the room in record time. One of his hands slides into Tomrunds hair and the other goes straight for his belt, and Tormund groans in surprise but he eagerly reciprocates. 

He picks Jon up by his thighs and sets him on the kitchen counter, before ducking and starting to ravish his neck. Jon pants and squirms, finally running out of patience when Tormund  _ bites _ .

He takes a fist full of Tormunds hair and yanks him back up.

"Tor," Jon groans into his mouth, not being able to do much of anything else. 

The man’s hands are  _ everywhere,  _ but they seemed to have found a favorite place to caress, running his huge, warm hands from Jon rib cage to just past his hips. They just kept moving up and down, like Tormund was trying to memorize what Jon felt like under his hands. God knows that was what Jon was trying to do, running his hands over Tormunds' shoulders and chest and neck, trying to commit it all the memory for safekeeping. 

"Fuck," Tormund gasps back at him, and all Jon can do is give him a nod in agreement. He doesn't think he's ever been this turned on in his life. 

He looks past Tormund shoulder and groans I really as he sees the microwave clock. He has to be at work in 6 hours. 

"Tormund," Jon says softly, pushing at his shoulders. He steps back, confusion written all over his face. 

"What's wrong?" 

He sighs and runs his hands over his face. 

"I want to, I really,  _ really _ do, but it's late. I have to be up for work in like 5 hours, and we do  _ not _ have the time to do everything I want to." 

Tormunds eyes change and he steps back into Jon's space. 

"But you do want to?" His voice makes Jon breathless, and when he answers he sounds like he's been sprinting. 

"Yeah," he pants, 

"Yeah, I do. It's just, just that we- we cant tonight. Is that okay?" 

Tormund closes the distance between them to share another heated kiss. 

"Of course it is. What's a few more days huh?" 

Jon shivers. 

"Right….Did you still want to stay over though?" 

Tormund cocks his head at him like a confused puppy. 

"I mean, you still don't know what's wrong with your truck right? So instead of driving back to your place so late, why don't you just crash here?" 

A slow smile spreads across his face and he lays a hand on Jon's hip, pulling them flush together.

"Yeah, okay. Lead the way, little crow." 

Jon takes him to the bedroom and starts taking off his clothes. His body is humming in anticipation, and he firmly tries to squash down his desire. He really  _ did _ have to be up for work soon, and he knew that if anything happened between the two of them he wouldn't get a wink. 

He shakes the thoughts from his head and lays down, being joined by Tormund a moment later. A large arm wraps around his torso and pulls him against a solid wall of muscle. 

"This okay?" Tormund rumbles, and Jon lays a hand on his massive forearm. 

"Yeah, this is fine." 

Those are the last words he says as he closes his eyes and tries to drift off to sleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tormund go dancing.   
> (Some other things happen too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! Its the longest chapter yet. I really hope you guys enjoy it!!  
> Please leave a comment! Every comment is a hit of writers crack.   
> (Due to some formatting issues, I had to delete and re-upload Chapter 5, as well as make a few minor edits. Sorry for the confusion guys!)

Jon wakes up warm.

Too warm. He feels like his skin is 10 seconds from melting off. 

He squirms and freezes when something tightens around his waist. He slowly looks down and is met with a pale freckled forearm cinched tight around his middle. 

All at once the previous night comes rushing back to him, and being careful not to jostle anything too much, he reaches for his nightstand to check the time. He winces as the light from his phone shines in his eyes, the bright white of the LED light making him squint. 

_ 4:03 AM _

He has 27 minutes before his wake up alarm goes off. Flicking his half of the blanket onto Tormund, Jon sighs at the pleasantly cool air caressing his skin.

He slips one hand behind his head, content to lie on his back and listen to Tormunds' breathing until his alarm goes off. He looks slightly to his left and watchesTormund’s chest rise and fall with steady breaths, becoming transfixed. 

The arm is still heavy and  _ real _ across his stomach, pinning him to the mattress in a way that makes it impossible to get away without waking the ginger giant. 

Jon shifts closer, and the arm tightens around him again. The bare skin of his torso is pressed to Tormunds, warm and dry and smooth. 

Jon lets his eyes trail up and down the exposed skin, what he can see of it anyway. Tormund had shifted underneath the blanket so that it was back to covering most of his chest and stomach. 

Jon tries his hardest not to be disappointed. 

It doesn't work. 

He firmly shuts the door on that line of thought, knowing that the more he thinks about Tormund’s body the harder it would be to get out of bed when his alarm went off. 

He’s hyper-aware of the skin that’s still touching, mostly their legs, which had tangled together in sleep. His bare thighs tingle where they meet with Tormund’s and Jon can’t help but notice how muscular they feel while intertwined with his own.

Tormund snorts suddenly, and it just about sends Jon out bed for all it startles him. After his heart rate settles back down to normal, Jon finds a grin plastered to his face. It is something so normal, but Tormund makes it seem endearing, somehow. 

Probably the same way he makes grease stains and crumbs and wrinkled clothing endearing, Jon thinks. 

He lets his eyes slip closed again while he shimmies closer to the warm body occupying his bed. It’s nice, he thinks, to have something other than a pillow to wrap his arms around. 

As gently as he can, he moves closer and nuzzles his head underneath Tormund’s chin. He stays there for as long as he can, not wanting to leave the comfort and the warmth of his bed (and his  _ bedmate _ ).

He loses track of how long he lays there, wishing that time could freeze and he could stay forever. However long it is, it feels much more than half an hour. 

When his phone starts beeping on the nightstand behind him he reluctantly rolls away from Tormund, shimmying out from under his arm as quickly as he can. 

He taps the snooze button on his phone and grumbles under his breath while he tugs on a pair of socks. While hunched over, he’s startled by an arm twining around his hips. Tormunds mouth presses a kiss to his bare shoulder, and then the tension that had already been building in Jon's spine melts away like snow in the summer heat. 

"G'Mornin'," Tormund rumbles, his voice still gruff and half slurred with sleep. Jon pats his arm, 

"Morning. You can go back to sleep if you want, it’s dreadful early. You can just hang out here until you have to go to work. I trust you,"

The arm warped around his middle moves upwards, Tormund sliding his hand up to Jon's chin, gripping it and making him turn his head.

His eyelids flutter, and when he blinks his eyes lock with Tormunds. His gut clenches and a flush rises to his cheeks, breath hitching. For all his sleepiness, the other man looks ready to flip Jon onto his back and have his way with him. 

Fingers still holding his jaw, the large man gives him a tired smirk, before leaning closer and closing the gap between them. Morning breath aside, Jon has to say it’s a very nice kiss. He gives himself 30 seconds, counting each one out in his head before he pulling away. 

"As much as I would love to continue, and trust me, I would, I gotta get going. I can't be late," He says apologetically. 

Tormund pouts at him, and Jon is keenly reminded of Ghost when he's been denied a part of Jon's dinner. He kisses Jon chastely, square on the mouth. Pulling away slightly he pecks Jon on the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, nuzzling their faces together. 

"I'll be gone by the time you get back," he rumbles, and his voice sounds remorseful 

"I know," Jon responds, "It’s okay. We're still going dancing tomorrow night, and I have the weekend off." 

"Mmm," Tormund hummed, his eyes sliding shut again. His slides back down until he's flat on Jon's bed again, eyes closed and body loose. 

Jon loathes to leave him, he really does, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He leavesTormund dozing in his bed, padding put into the kitchen to feed himself and Ghost. His dog is used to being woken up this early, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of Jon coming from the bedroom. 

Jon busies himself with making breakfast and gathering his things for work, trying not to focus on the thoughts of a man in his bed. 

Not just any man, either. 

Tormund is in his bed.  _ Undressed, in his  _ **_bed_ ** -

He gives his head a sharp shake, focusing only on thoughts of work and getting through his day like normal.

20 minutes later, Jon is at the door tugging on his boots. As he opens the door to head for his car, he hears a door open on the other end of his apartment. He turns to see Tormund lumbering down the hall, coming straight for him. 

He straightens, shrugging on his jacket while Tormund comes to a stop in front of him. A hand cups his jaw, a thumbing rubbing along his cheekbone. Jon closes his eyes and leans into the contact, not wanting to leave this moment. 

A mouth ghosts softly over his own, and Jon finds himself unconsciously leaning upwards so Tormund could kiss him properly. 

Tormund relents, kissing him soundly. He hums against Jon's tongue, hands falling to Jon's hips to reel him in closer. Their bodies are pressed flush together, and heat sparks in Jon's belly. 

He shoves away from Tormund, a massive grin plastered on his face. 

"You stop that," He scolds, sounding not at all serious, "I've got to get going!" 

"I know," Tormunds laughs. His hair is sticking up in about a million different directions, and Jon is finding it very hard to stay annoyed. 

"I just wanted to give you a proper goodbye, is all," The slick mouth is back on Jon's, and this time he just gives himself to it, letting himself briefly get lost in the all-encompassing storm that isTormund. 

They part, eyes still shut, brows resting together. Jon takes in a steadying breath, cursing his job. When he blinks Tormund is smiling down at him, looking entirely too self-satisfied. 

He scowls, giving him a light shove. Tormund chuckles and steps back into the apartment, headed for the kitchen. 

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He calls over his shoulder, already at the coffee maker. 

"See you tomorrow." 

Jon closes the door behind him and makes for his car. He wonders what Tormund would get up to in his home, while he’s away. 

It makes it even harder to drive away. 

¤¤¤

When Jon arrives at the hospital he throws himself into his work, hoping that if he focuses enough on the job he could push Tormund to the back of his mind. 

It works, for the most part. 

¤¤¤

Coming back home from work on Thursday evening is an experience. 

When he walks into the dark apartment he expects a list of things to get done, the morning's dishes, feeding Ghost, his laundry, typical household things. 

He flips the light switch in the kitchen and is met with a spotless countertop, other than a piece of paper. He walked over and picked it up 

_ Jon, I'll be long gone by the time you read this, but that’s okay. It's the thought that counts. I hope you had a great day today, you deserve it.  _

_ I walked and fed Ghost before I headed for the shop (about 1:30) so that should take a few things off your plate.  _

_ I'll see you tomorrow night <3 _

_ -T _

Jon grins, snapping a photo of the note on his phone and sending it to Tormund. 

_ J: You big sap!! I loved it. See you tomorrow <3 <3 _

He doesn't get a response, but he isn't particularly expecting one either. Tormund keeps his phone in his truck while he’s working. 

Ghost trots up to him, tail wagging happily. Jon pets his head, 

"Hello boy, how was your day? Did you have fun with Tormund?" 

Ghost ears perk at the sound of the other man's name, and Jon's heart aches a little. 

"No, sorry, he's not here right now. I wish he was too though." 

He stands up straight and goes around the apartmen t, looking for something to do. When he found nothing to do, he’s drawn to his bed, and in the back of his mind he hoped that the smell of Tormund still lingers on his sheets. 

He’s delighted to find that yes, it does. Jon quickly undresses, crawling into the sheets in his boxers. He burrows unashamedly into them, trying to wrap himself in the remnants of Tormund's woodsmoke body-wash and the lingering but still ever-present scent of oil. 

The toll of the day weighing him down, and the knowledge that he has no responsibilities for the rest of the evening lures him to sleep. 

¤¤¤

He wakes some hours later, groggy and confused. His phone is ringing on the floor beside his bed, knocked down on his sleep. He reaches and fumbles for it blindly, cursing under his breath at the annoying ringtone he'd chosen while conscious. 

"Hello?" he croaked, shuffling up to lean on an elbow. 

"Jon?" 

He blinks. 

"Oh, hey Sam, what's up?" 

"Were you asleep?" 

Jon chuckled. 

"Yeah. I crashed after I got home." 

"Figures. Are we still on for the movies Saturday night?" 

"Yeah, it's the new Star Wars movie right?" 

"Right-o." 

"Yeah, we're still on. See you then man," he says. 

"See you then," Sam says back, and they end the call. 

Jon squints clearly at his phone, sighing when he sees the time. 

_ 7:35 pm _

He yawns, flopping back onto his bed and wishing he had just slept through the night. His stomach rumbles, and he drags himself out of bed in search of food. 

He pats Ghost on the way to the kitchen, who follows at his heels, more than likely looking for scraps. 

He checks his phone again and is pleased to find a new message. He taps it and his and Tormund’s text history pops up. 

_ T: I'm glad :P _

_ T: What are you up to?  _

_ J: Thinking about tomorrow night  _

_ T: Me too  _

Jon bites at his lip and twirls his thumbs, brain caught up on a response. Thankfully Tormund saves the conversation, as he was one to do.

_ T: Which club are we going to? I want to know if I should wear a shirt or not XD  _

Jon laughs, his brain catching momentarily on the thought of shirtless Tormund like it always did. 

_ 'No,'  _ Jon scolds himself,  _ 'Not going down that road right now.' _

_ J: Wear a shirt lol, you ridiculous man _

They sink into texting, and before Jon knows he has to go to bed again.

The next day passes in tense anticipation, one spent constantly checking the clock. When his shift is over and he’s finally home, Jon’s unbelievably excited. Now, at last, he can get ready and _go._ Jon dresses in a deep red button-down shirt and black slacks, and goes to fuss with his hair, wrestling with his curls for almost 20 minutes before becoming satisfied. He winks at himself in the bathroom mirror, chuckling at his own stupidity. 

Every time he had a date with Tormund he found himself acting like a giddy schoolgirl. 

He checks his phone for the time and feels his excitement rear in his chest again. 

_ 10 minutes until Tormund is supposed to arrive _ . 

Jon plays out his plan in his head again, praying everything would go off without a hitch. 

Tormund would pick him up, and they would go to the club. Then, after dancing and drinks, he and Tormund would come back to Jon's apartment. 

After that. 

Well. 

They would see. 

¤¤¤

Jons eyes dart between Tormund and the ground as he walks out to the other man's truck. He’s too nervous to look at him directly, insides twisting at what Tormund might say once he was in the vehicle. 

He hops in and shuts the door behind him with a breathless, "Hey," 

But that's all he’s able to get out, as Tormund’s mouth was now covering his own. He moans, reciprocating the kiss with a natural confidence that had  _ not _ come to him so easily. 

When they first started dating, Jon had been incredibly self-conscious about his lack of kissing (and overall) experience, but Tormund was a very patient man. 

They can hear the music from the car, some pop song with a good rhythm to it. Jon’s stomach flutters with butterflies as he bounces lightly in his seat. He hadn't been dancing in  _ forever. _

They park, and step out into the cool evening air. The sharp smell of liquor stings Jon's nose, broken bottles in the gutter causing the scent to stick to the entire street. Worried that Tormund might judge the place by its less-than-pleasing real estate, but the other man was simply surveying the area with an interested look on his face. 

Jon leads him to the door, grinning at the bouncer beside the door. 

"Hey, Gendry," 

"Jon! I haven't seen you around here for ages! I was worried you'd given up on the clubbing life," 

Jon laughs, accepting Gendrys' offered hand and letting himself be pulled into a half-hug. 

"Who, me? Never. I've just been busy, you know how things can get." 

"Don't I ever. Alright, you two head on in, have a great night, Jon, hopefully, I'll be seeing you soon," 

With that, he waves them through the door. Jon takes hold of Tormund's arm and leads him to the main dance floor. As he guides him to seats at the bar he rambles off a list of everything he loves about the place.

Once settled at the bar, Jon orders himself a Vodka soda and Tormund orders a Whiskey. They chat idly, slowly sipping their drinks and surveying the crowd. 

The song that’s playing comes to an end, and Jon downs that last of his drink in one go as he stands up. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he winks down at Tormund, who is nodding his head along to the music. The next song starts to play through the speakers, and Jon bounces lightly to the beat as he walks towards the crowd, weaving effortlessly into the small mass of people. 

He tips his head back, one hand in his hair, swaying to the rhythm of the song. Peeking out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tormunds large frame making its way towards him. Familiar hands slide around his waist and he's pulled back against a solid wall of muscle. He reaches up, the hand that had been in his own hair moving up to grab the roots of Tormunds nape. The other man growls lightly somewhere near his ear, and Jon shivers.

He leans fully back into Tormund, the other man taking his full weight with such little effort it made Jon's breathing stutter. It feels as if he were holding Jon just above the ground, making him hover. Even with his feet touching the floor he feels weightless, and he knows when he started to sway to the music the only reason they moved is that Tormund allowed them too. 

He and Tormund rock and grind and sway together, moving with the rest of the crowd. The sounds of the club start to fade away, being replaced by the sounds of Tormund’s breathing and his own heartbeat. He can still feel the base of the song, through the floor and up through his legs, up up up until Jon lets himself be consumed by the music. 

One of Tormund’s arms wraps around his waist, cinching tight, almost- 

Almost possessive. 

He peeks open an eye from where his head is resting back against his boyfriend’s chest, catching sight of another man staring at the two of them. His eyes are locked on Jon, gazing up and down his body 

Jon understands all at once. 

_ Tormund is jealous. _

Jon feels the corner on his mouth tug itself up into a smirk. He pushes back into Tormund with a little more force, purposely grinding back against his crotch. Tormund’s hands tighten harshly on his hips, and he sucks in a sharp breath. There's heavy breathing next to his ear, and then-  _ oh, that fucker _ \- a mouth on Jon's neck. 

He sighs as Tormunds beard scrapes the sensitive skin of his neck, followed quickly by a soothing tongue. He resolutely  _ did not _ think about the fact that they are in public and instead focuses on the fact he was  _ here,  _ _ now, _ with  _ Tormund _ , and everything was wonderful. 

A new song starts, this one with a much faster beat and Jon’s hands find Tormunds wrists, pushing slightly at the firm grip they had on his hips. Tormund’s releases him, and Jon twirls to face him. He slides his hands up Tormunds stomach and chest to wrap around the back of his neck. 

Tormund moves his head down slightly and seals their mouth together, moaning at the taste of whiskey on Tormund tongue. He threads his hands into Tormunds ginger curls, his fingers burrowing to scrape blunt nails over his scalp. 

He and Tormund gasp at the same time, and the rush of it makes Jon feel as if he's about to fly away. He and Tormund are moving in perfect sync, and Jon could almost believe that their breathing and heartbeats were moving together too. 

Jon is grinning widely into the kiss, unable to keep it from warping his mouth. Tormund laughs, his breath puffing over Jon's face. He growls lightly in the back of his throat, wanting to take Tormund’s laugh and swallow it whole, keep it safe within himself so that he would never have to live without it. 

He realizes that they may be getting too R-rated for a dance club when Tormund full out  _ dry humps  _ him, even though no one else on the floor seems to care. 

He pushed at Tormunds chest, managing to separate enough to stutter out between kisses,

"We- we should- do you want to go?" he finally gets out, breathless. Tormund smirks down at him, and the glint in his eyes sets Jon's blood aflame with anticipation.

"Yeah?" Tormund’s voice is deeper than it had been a moment ago, and Jon's body floods with goosebumps. 

"Yeah," he rasps, his throat gone dry. 

"Yeah." Says Tormund again, and Jon laughs at the strangeness of it. 

They head for the counter to collect their things, Jon feeling as though he might burst from excitement at any moment. While Tormund calls them a cab, Jon makes sure he has all his things. He loves this place, but if you left something here it was likely you'd never see it again. 

"Uber is on its way," rumbles Tormund. Jon has gotten used to the other man appearing unannounced behind him, so he doesn't jump when a heavy hand falls on his shoulder. He leans all his weight into Tormund, enjoying the feeling of being supported. 

Tormund presses a kiss to the top of Jon's head. He feels the ginger whisper something into his hair, but he doesn't ask what. He was feeling far to content to rock the boat. 

Their ride pulls up in less than 10 minutes, and Jon makes a slurred comment to Tormund to rate 5 stars as he awkwardly works his way in.

The Uber driver laughs and tells Jon to grab a handful of chocolates from the cupholder which Jon does, because _obviously_ _he would,_ who would turn down free chocolate. 

Tormund takes one out of his hand and unwraps it, but instead of reaching up to pop it in his own mouth, he holds it to Jon's lips. 

He takes it between his teeth, smiling at the feeling of Tormunds fingers ghosting his bottom lip. He looks out the window while he chews, willing the blush coloring his cheeks to go down. 

He can feel Tormunds eyes on him, but Jon thinks if he looks at him straight on he might burst into flames. Even the light fabric of his shirt is starting to be too much, feeling like he's wrapped himself in thick sandpaper rather than the silk it really was. 

He unwraps another chocolate because  _ damn, that was actually really good _ \- and catches Tormund staring at him. Keeping their eyes locked, Jon slowly pushes it into his mouth, sucking on it instead of chewing. 

Tormund’s eyes narrow slightly at him, but in amusement rather than judgment. Jon sticks another piece between his teeth and waits. Low and behold, Tormund swoops down and steals it from him. Seeing Tormund wink down at him while eating the chocolate he had just taken from Jon's mouth made his stomach twist pleasantly. 

The driver seems to have picked up on their mood and has stayed silent. Jon absent-mindedly reminds himself to leave a big tip and goes back to staring out the window so that he doesn't jump Tormund in the backseat. 

Before he knows it they're pulling up to his house, and Jon slaps a twenty into the man's hand through the driver's side window, giving him thanks with a genuine smile. The driver laughs and heads off to cart some other drunken fools around, and Jon turns to meet his own. 

Tormund is leaning on his fence, just watching him, and Jon feels a strange calm settle over his bones. 

Like walking up the stairs to your long-left childhood bedroom, or coming home at Christmas to a house full of familiar yet unfamiliar people, the feeling was both known and unknown. 

Reaching for Tormunds hand, Jon starts up the stairs to his front door. He's grateful he'd gotten Arya to agree to take Ghost for the night, especially as he pushes open his door to an apartment filled with blessed silence. 

The very act of crossing the threshold causes him to have a small internal crisis, the fact that he might be about to lose his virginity sneaking up on him. When he hears Tormund close and latch the door behind him Jon hurries into the living room, trying to focus more on his excitement than his anxiety.

It’s just nerves, Jon reminds himself. Just nerves. 

They wander through Jon's apartment, weaving around furniture, and when Jon almost stumbles he barely rights himself with a tipsy giggle. He feels lightheaded, his anticipation affecting him almost as much as the Vodka. 

He twirls, meeting Tormunds eyes and smirking at him. The other man's eyes narrow slightly in response, knowing a challenge when he sees one.

They move at the same time, their bodies meeting with a soft  _ thud _ in the middle of Jon's living room. Tormund’s hand is on his jaw, then it's in his hair and there's mouth is covering his own. 

'Alright,' Jon thinks, he can do kissing. He knows how to do that. 

Jon parts his lips, the feel of Tormund against him blocking out all his other senses. He shoves his hands up into Tormunds hair, twisting it in his fingers so he could pull and tug without losing his grip. Tormund gives a low groan, but from what Jon could tell it wasn't from pain. 

Their tongues dance, but as Jon has a tendency to do he yields to Tormund after a few moments, opting to let him take the reins. 

Tormund does so flawlessly, easily herding Jon against a wall without so much a breaking their kiss. 

He jolts with a deep groan when his back thumps against the wood, feeling his muscles starting to turn to jello and the brazen display of control from his boyfriend. 

Jon knows full well that Tormund could pick him up and toss him out a window if he was inclined to, so the fact that he’s treating Jon like fine china makes his heart swell. 

He jumps slightly when he feels Tormund's fingers start to play over the buttons of his shirt, but he nods into their kiss when he realizes what Tormund was asking. 

He tries to fumble with them himself, but his fingers feel numb and uncoordinated. Growing impatient, Tormund  _ rips _ Jon's shirt open, sending his buttons rolling down the hall.

"Hey!" He chides, slapping Tormund's arm lightly. 

"I liked this shirt!" He complains, because damn it,  _ he had.  _ Tormund snorts and runs his hand up the skin of Jon's bare stomach and chest to lay on the side of his neck. 

"I'll buy you a new one," He mumbles, amused. 

He kisses Jon again, fierce and rough and  _ wet _ , but Jon isn't put off by that.

Tormund’s mouth is slick against his, and Jon moans at the taste of the liquor from the bar and the fucking  _ chocolate _ -

He moves his mouth to Jon’s cheek and starts whispering, his breath warm and moist against Jon's face. 

"You're so fucking pretty, Jon," 

Tormunds calloused hand trails from the side of his neck, down his chest and stomach,  _ down down down  _ until it comes to a stop at the button of his jeans. His breathing freezes while Tormund moves his fingers to pop the button, but before he does he stops and waits. 

"Yes?" He breaths into Jon's ear. 

" _ Yes _ ," says Jon, biting his lip. 

Skilled fingers pry it open, and take down his fly- holy fuck, what this really happening?- 

He dips into the waistband of his underwear and wraps a calloused hand around his cock.

His grip is gentle, but it’s enough that Jon's already starting to feel like his brain is attempting to escape through his ears. 

It pulses in Tormund’s grip, thrumming in time with Jon's heartbeat. 

His jaw drops in a wordless moan as Tormund slowly pumps his hand, blood fizzing in his chest. His legs are trembling, and he has one hand braced against the wall to try and stay upright. 

"So pretty. You do this to yourself, hmm? Wrap a hand around your cock and jerk off?"

He keeps the same torturously slow place, and it only takes a minute before Jon starts to squirm, his hips stuttering and trying to thrust into Tormunds fist. He yelps slightly as the grip around him tightens.

"I asked you a question, baby." 

"Oh, oh god- yes, yes yeah I do," 

"You do what?" His hand speeds up, just enough to send a shock through Jon's veins. 

"Fuck- _ fuck _ , I jerk off, oh  _ god, please, yes, just like that- _ " 

Tormund hums into his neck, sounding pleased. 

His thumb rubs the head of Jon's cock and his hips jolt with another moan. His head thumps back against the wall, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

It leaves his throat exposed, and Tormund takes full advantage. He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses from the shell of Jon's ear to his collar bone, He sighs, sweet heat pinpricking throughout his entire body. 

"What do you think about?" The rumble of Tormunds voice makes him shiver, and he gasps, 

"I- You, this, you doing...things to me.," 

The end of his sentence comes out as a whisper, and Tormund tuts lightly and taps the underside of Jon's chin with a finger. 

"Its okay Jon, you can tell me. It's all part of the fun, you'll see," 

He takes his hand off of Jon cock and brings it to his mouth, licking a broad wet stripe across his palm. A moment later it’s wrapped back around him, warm and wet. He moans rawly, his breath stuttering in his chest. When Tormund resumes his stroking and Jon's knees give out, so the redhead stepping forward and pinning him harshly to the is was the only thing that keeps him from hitting the floor. 

Abandoning his cock, Tormund settles a hand beneath each of Jon's thighs and lifts him upwards easily. Jon wraps his legs around his muscular torso, his elbows resting on Tormund's shoulders. Instead of kissing him as Jon expects, Tormund begins to walk them to the bedroom. 

He can  _ feel _ Tormund’s erection through their clothes, but unlike the last time, he doesn’t panic. He feels much more confident now, more comfortable with the other man as a whole. 

When Tormund crosses the threshold of Jon’s bedroom he doesn’t drop him on the bed as Jon expected, instead leaning him against the wall once again and reattaching their mouths. 

He gently sets Jon on his feet before taking his cock back in hand, looming teasingly over him, his lips tilted upwards in a smirk. 

"Now then," he says, and Jon  _ shudders _ because there's something so captivating about the way he's talking-

"Where were we?" Tormund nuzzles a kiss under Jon's jaw. 

"You were telling me what sort of thoughts go through that sweet head of yours when you stroke this pretty, pretty cock," He punctuates his words with flicks of his wrist that make Jon's stomach swoop. 

"I-um, I-" he whines a little when Tormund slows his pace slows to a crawl. The man is still dotting the side of his face and neck in chaste kisses, occasionally making pleased humming noises. 

"Okay, here's how this is going to work. The more you tell me, the more I'll touch you. Understand?" 

"Uh- um- Yeah. Yeah, okay-" Jon can’t stop stuttering, his thoughts scattered to the wind. He feels as though his body is burning, made of holy fire. It was sparked and fanned into a roaring flame by Tormund, rising from his core to burn him away to nothing.

"So what do you think about?" 

"I um, um- You? I think about you, and um, - _ oh- _ , I think about your  _ mouth _ ," 

The words come out half-warbled, the alcohol in his system and his own excitement causing him to slur his words. 

Tormund makes a mildly surprised noise against his ear. 

"My mouth? Oh, you want my mouth down here?" 

Before Jon has time to register what’s happening, Tormund is kneeling in front of him. . 

A mouth accompanied by a rough beard scrapes a hot, wet trail down his stomach, his abdomen, presses an opened-mouth kiss to his hip, and then-fuck, that was a mouth.  _ Oh, holy fuck, there was a mouth on his cock- _ his thighs shake, and he tries in vain to move his hips away, the sensation feeling like too much. 

But Tormund had been smart, and backed him tight into the wall before he'd dropped to his knees. 

The noise that comes out of Jon's mouth is only half human, some strange mix between a gasp and a growl. His hands are shaking on Tormund's shoulders, and he’s briefly torn between the instinct to get away from the intense sensation and the primal  _ need _ to thrust forward into the wet heat.

Tormund sucks, and the decision is taken away from him as his hips snap harshly forward. Or they try to anyway, but with the way Tormund is pinning him flat to the wall its impossible to move even an inch. The mouth slides down, up, down again, and Jon lets out a shameless groan, trying once again to rut forwards. 

There's a thick heat that's sludging through his body, sticking to his bones and making him feel weightless. If it weren't for Tormund holding him down (up?) Jon was sure he would float away. 

The massive hands tighten on his hips, and he can't hold back a moan. The pressure feels good, steadying. It’s something to hold onto while his veins thunder with the sweet sting of pleasure, to remind him that there was a reality to return to when this was over. 

Tormund bobs again, swallowing Jon somehow even  _ deeper,  _ and he curls forward over Tormund involuntarily, a high, shuddering gasp springing from his throat. He’s twitching from his thighs to his toes, muscles spasming in pleasure. 

He curls his fingers into the material of Tormunds shirt, bunching the fabric in his fists while the other man sucks him off. His hips are still being held firmly to the wall. Despite all his efforts, Tormund still hadn't let him move an  _ inch _ . 

Tormund pulls almost all the way off of him, his tongue swirling around the head of Jon's cock a few times before swallowing him back down. Jon  _ moans, _ loud and long and unfiltered. His voice shakes as badly as his knees do, and he can  _ feel _ Tormund smirking- 

Just as Jon feels he might unravel completely, Tormund sits back on his heels with an obscene sounding slurp. Jon locks his eyes on the ceiling, that is until Tormund taps his hip expectantly. 

He looks down, what he sees almost makes him faint. The sight of Tormund on his knees between Jon's legs, Jon's cock hard against his cheek while he sucks marks into the V of Jon’s hips- it was almost too much. 

The other man looks up and catches Jon's eyes, and just like that Jon is hypnotized, unable to break the spell they've found themselves caught in. For a minute, neither one of them moves, not wanting to shatter the moment. Then, Tormund leans forward again with an open mouth, taking Jon in easily.

Somehow, it's even more intense with eye-contact. He can’t look away, couldn't even imagine it. At that moment, the only thing existing is Tormund and his  _ divine  _ mouth. 

His gut is clenched tight, and his toes are curling against the floor. This was the best he'd ever felt in his  _ entire  _ **_life-_ **

When it comes, it hits him like a punch from no-where, starting low in his abdomen. His whole body tenses, and he squirms restlessly against the wall, gasping for air. He’s so close, he's right there, just a little longer-

Jon’s mouth opens without his permission, the thoughts running through his head falling from his lips, half-incoherent with moans. 

"Oh holy fuck, oh god that's so good- ah, oh my god, oh god, don't stop,  _ please  _ don't stop-" 

Tormund hums a chuckle around his cock and takes him deeper, thoroughly distracting Jon from the brief sparks of anxiety, instead lighting a different fire in him. He grips at the gingers' hair, his shoulders, moaning shamelessly. 

"I'm, oh fuck Tormund, I'm gonna cum, oh my God-" 

Instead of pulling off Tormund swallows around him, reaching around to squeeze a handful of Jon's ass. He squeaks embarrassingly and ruts forwards, his balls brushing Tormunds beard and chin, and oh- 

_ Oh- _

Jon finally cums with a cry of Tormund’s name, his head tilted back against the bedroom wall. His fingers are firmly latched in Tormund’s hair, keeping his jaw pressed to Jon's pelvis. He shivers and shudders as Tormunds throat continues to constrict around him. 

Tormund pulls off him slowly, licking him clean while Jon pants raggedly. His shirt has fallen around his elbows, now sweat-soaked and cold. He tries to push up from the wall and falters, his bones feeling like cooked pasta. 

"Here, let me," rasps Tormund, and Jon is plucked from the floor like a ragdoll. He doesn’t even have time to think about twining his legs around Tormund waist before the other man deposits him neatly on his bed.

His pants are still undone and shoved down his thighs with his boxers, and something in the back of Jon's head tries to needle him with shame, but the aftershocks of pleasure drown it out. He shimmies in bed, pulling his boxers back up over the swell of his ass before settling again. 

He's still twitching, muscles spasming as he sprawls out on his bed, trying to put his head back on.

He had just begun to wonder where Tormund had gone when the other side of the bed dips and Jon feels him settle a foot away. He rolls, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off and crawling to where Tormund is watching him. 

He doesn't say anything, just leans down and captures Tormunds lips in a tender kiss. Tormund slides his shirt back up his arms, and Jon gives him an amused look. 

"Y’know that's not going to do much good now?" 

Tormund at least has the decency to look sheepish. The distinct lack of buttons on Jon's shirt was obvious, and he knew he'd have to spend the morning searching the hall to make sure he found them all. 

"Sorry. I meant it when I said I'd buy you another," 

He said, and he sounds so sincere it breaks Jon’s heart. 

He sighs and lays a hand on Tormunds face. 

"I know." 

They kiss some more, lazy and slow, until Jon feels himself settling. 

They break apart and Tormund tugs him down to lay on his chest. When he speaks, the deep tenor of his voice rolls over Jon like a wave from the ocean. 

"I hope you enjoyed that," He said. 

Jon nods, his bearded cheek scraping against Tormunds chest hair. 

"I did," His voice sounds drowsy. He perks up, remembering that while Tormund had made him feel  _ amazing,  _ Jon hadn't done anything in the way of reciprocation. 

He propped himself up on an elbow and put his other hand on the lower part of Tormunds stomach. 

"Did you want me to…?" He leaves the rest of the question hanging in the air, hoping Tormund catches his meaning. 

The other man takes a hold of his wrist and moves it to his neck with a chuckle. 

"Oh trust me, if it's still on the table I'll be taking you up on that offer later, but uh, right now it's not exactly…. _ necessary _ ." 

For a moment Jon is confused, but then he notes the crimson tint to Tormunds cheeks, and the tips of his ears. 

He gapes. 

"You- I-" 

"Trust me Jon, after the performance you put on I lasted about 10 seconds." 

The thought of Tormund frantically jerking off in his bathroom is enough for Jon's cock to twitch valiantly, but he shushes it. At the current time, he's much too drained for a second round. 

Jon nods. 

"Later it is then." 

He snuggles back into his boyfriend’s muscular chest, his blood still singing and his heart still pounding. 

The silence that follows is only broken by the sounds of their breathing, or the sound of cloth on cloth when one of them shifts in the sheets. It is a comfortable silence, one Jon was reluctant to break. But one thought kept bouncing around his head, and he felt that if he didn't say it, it would stay forever. 

"I really like you," He whispers into the darkness. Tormund  _ hmms _ and kisses the crown of his head-

-his brow-

-his cheek-

-before finally kissing him chastely on the lips. 

"I really like you too." 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenderness...and smut. Okay its mostly smut. Very sweet, barely kinky smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm sorry you guys, it's been way too long without an update. So here! this is nothing but the softness of our fav boys falling in love.
> 
> Thank you once again to Miss_Rust, my best beta. 
> 
> Enjoy everyone :)
> 
> Please leave a comment for lifeblood

Jon hopes that waking up with Tormund in his bed would become a regular occurrence. He enjoys the heat that follows the other man, and the pleasant smell that permeates wherever Tormund is in that moment. 

It makes him feel safe. 

And  _ horny. _

He bites his lip and smiles, watching the other man's chest rise and fall in sleep, wishing him awake. 

_ What would you do if he was?  _

The voice in Jon's head is wicked, prompting him to have…. _ thoughts _ . __

_ You want him to wake up so you can suck his cock the way he did yours.  _

Jon takes a deep breath, the fire under his skin from last night seeming to spark back up at the mere thought of his ginger giant. 

He feels his face grow hot and turns to lie flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He glances at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. 

_ Do you think he'd let you? _

Jon squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force the voice away. He doesn't feel like falling down a valley of despair today…

He feels the bed shift, and Tormund rolls to face him.

"Mornin'," his voice is gruff with sleep, deeper and scratchier than normal. It stirs that same  thing in Jon, only amplified when he’s pulled into a slow, gentle kiss. 

It was one of the ones where he felt that if he’d let it, it would consume him entirely. 

For once, he allows himself to get lost in it. 

He leans his weight further into Tormund, and the other man falls backward with a surprised noise. 

Forgoing any attempts at conversation Jon laps at Tormund's bottom lip, moaning when he's granted access immediately. 

He shifts, moving to straddle the bigger man's toned, muscular thighs. 

Tormund’s hands are on his hips, not gripping overly tight, but with the same solid grip he'd had on them the night before. 

His cock jumps at the memory, and he exhales harshly across Tormund’s cheek. 

The other man's hands travel his favorite path on Jon's ribs, up and down, up and down, soothing Jon’s nerves before he even realized they were there. 

"Not to say that this isn't an excellent way to wake up, but what's the occasion?" 

Jon blushes. 

"Nothing. I just felt like it. Is that….okay?

He winces at the uncertainty in his voice and squeaks when Tormund tugs him closer. The other man is gazing at him, his lips upturned in a smirk. 

"More than okay. Let me just say this now to save us the hassle later, you can kiss me literally  _ whenever _ ." 

Jon scoffs, but he's smiling so wide his face hurts. 

"What are you thinking about?"

Jon hesitates for a moment, shy, but then he remembers how patient and open Tormund had been when Jon told him he wanted to go slow. 

"...You." 

Maybe he was done with slow.

Tormund raises an eyebrow at him.

"What about me?" 

Jon closes his eyes, unable to take Tormunds all-seeing gaze any longer. When a large hand moves from his hip to run a thumb under his eye he blinks them open. 

Tormund looks hopeful and encouraging. It spurs Jon onward. 

"About what we did last night. About how much I enjoyed it. About how much  _ you _ might've enjoyed it," He darts his eyes to the side again with warm cheeks. 

Tormund leans up and brushes his lips against Jon's neck, trailing chaste kisses towards his ear. 

"You know I did," he rumbles softly, shaking Jon's bones with the tremor of his voice. 

"And I know  _ you _ did." There's a slight difference in his voice now, similar to how it had been the night before. 

It makes Jon's breath hitch in his chest. He and Tormund are pressed skin to skin from the waist up, the only thing between them being Jon's sleep shorts and Tormund's boxers. 

Jon swallows hard. "I did." He still can't quite meet Tormund’s eyes. 

"Would you- I mean could we- Do you want to do it again?" 

Tormund lets out a small huff of laughter and kisses Jon properly, smiling into it. 

"Yes, I want to do it again. And more, when you're ready." 

Jon's heart sings in his chest and he throws himself into the kiss. 

Tormund rolls them, pinning Jon to the mattress. 

He squeaks in surprise, but it rolls into a high-pitched gasp as his partner licks a broad wet stripe up the side of his neck. 

Tormund shifts and grinds their crotches together, groaning. 

"Oh," sighs Jon, "Do that again," 

Tormund does, rolling his hips while biting lightly at Jon's pulse point. 

"Ah, you like that? Right here?" 

He rolls his hips again, harder this time, and Jon drops his head back with a moan. His fingers curl into Tormund’s back and shoulders as he rocks his hips upwards. He enjoys this, he finds. 

While he leaves a trail of bites along Jon’s throat, the thought from earlier strikes him. He must stiffen a little because Tormund pulls back. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good, I just- I wanted to try something? If that's okay?"

They're still less than two inches apart, breathing in one another’s air. 

"Yeah?" Tormund’s voice sounds husky, and in the still dim light, Jon can see his eyebrows are raised. "Like what?" 

Jon clears his throat and shifts slightly, moving to lay a palm on Tormunds muscular chest, pushing a bit. The bigger man moves fluidly, rolling onto his back with Jon now perched above him. 

Tormund looks up at him expectantly. 

"Well...I- I kind of wanted to return the favor you paid me last night." He knows he’s blushing, but he swallows and tries to shove his anxiety back down into his chest. 

"Is that so?" 

Jon feels a shiver creep up his spine. He shifts so he's beside Tormund rather than straddling him, placing his hands on Tormund's scantily-clad thighs. 

"Is that...okay? With you?" 

Tormund snorts a little before reaching to grip the nape of Jon's neck. He squeezes lightly, planting a kiss on Jon’s lips. 

"It is  _ very _ okay with me." He says, grinning. 

Jon smiles back, relieved. 

He slides his hand from Jon's neck to his chin, taking it between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes are like the deep ocean, dark. When he talks, his voice is quiet, barely a whisper.

"You go as slow and you need to, okay? No need to rush for me, I can wait." 

Jon's face splits open in a beaming smile, and he lurches to kiss Tormund messily. He runs his hands down his muscular torso, digging his fingers into Tormund's abs. 

"God," Jon says, somewhere between a whine and a groan, "It’s like someone made you for me.” 

He slides to the floor beside his bed, tugging on Tormunds knees to bring him to the edge. Gulping, Jon slides his hands up toned thighs, ghosts over the growing tent, and curls his fingers into the waistband of Tormund's boxers. 

Hands grip his wrists, and he looks up to meet Tormund's eyes. The redhead is staring down at him with wide-blown pupils, biting his bottom lip. 

Keeping their eyes locked, Jon pulls his wrists away gently, returning his hands to Tormunds hips.

"I want to do this," he says, licking his lips.

Jon tugs at the briefs until Tormund gets the picture and lifts his hips. 

He can’t help but stare, the thick cock bouncing in front of his eyes making his mouth water. 

"Before you start," Tormund says, already breathless,

"Just- watch the teeth, mkay? A-and breathe through your nose, and keep your jaw as loose as possible-  _ fuck-"  _

He's interrupted by Jon leaning forward and licking the tip. 

The taste is strange but overall not unpleasant.

He takes the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Tormund groans above him, and it feels like a shot of whiskey going straight to his head. 

Jon takes him in deeper, laving his tongue along the shaft as much as he can. He hears all of the air leave Tormund’s mouth in a whoosh, his hands settling on Jon's shoulders. 

"Oh god Jon,  _ fuck  _ that’s good," 

He hums, a pleasant feeling lighting up his spine at something in the words. One of Tormund’s hands latches into his hair briefly before jerking away as if burned. 

"Sorry, sorry-" 

Jon pulls off and grasps Tormund’s wrist, leading him to bury his hand into his roots. 

"It's okay...I think I like it. Just don't pull too hard," he smiles. 

Tormund’s breath hitches and he rests his unoccupied hand on the side of Jon's face, running his thumb over Jon's cheekbone.

Goosebumps break out over Jon's skin, making him shiver. He shimmies forward on his knees and takes Tormund back into his mouth, casting his eyes down again. 

"No, no, Jon, look at me, please?" 

His eyes shoot up to Tormund, who is gazing down at him in awe. His cheeks are flushed, and he can't seem to close his mouth. 

"Fuck," He moans softly, "You're incredible," 

Warmth pools into Jon's stomach suddenly, and he sucks. Tormund’s breathing shudders and his fist clenches lightly in Jon's curls. His blood is fizzing in his veins, making his entire body tingle. 

Tormund swallows, and curious, Jon copies him. 

" _ Oh," _ moans Tormund, his eyes now squeezed shut. He takes several deep breaths in quick succession.

Jon finds himself fixated on Tormunds face, unable to look away. 

Tormund’s hips are still making half-thrusts beneath his hands, and in thanks for the other man's self-control, Jon swallows again. 

_ " _ Fuck _ -"  _ Tormund curses. His thighs are tensing under Jon's arms in the most amazing way, making his mouth water even more than it already is- 

"Oh, Jon- oh, you're doing so  _ well- _ " Tormund gasps, his hips jerking slightly. His eyelids fluttering, he tightens his fingers in Jon's hair at the base of his skull. Jon is surprised at the deep groan it pulls from his chest, low and long. 

Jon breathes deeply in through his nose, focusing on relaxing his throat and taking Tormund deeper. 

Tormund’s hips thrust again, and when Jon manages not to choke he keeps thrusting gently. Little desperate rocking motions paired with Tormunds whimpering above him. 

Hearing that sound, knowing that it's him doing this to Tormund- it makes him feel  _ powerful. _

Tormund’s eyes are glassy, his mouth open wide as he tries not to make too much noise. His cheeks are as red as the hair hanging in his face, and he's panting like he's run a marathon. 

Pulling off, Jon wipes at his mouth with one hand while the other grips the base of Tormund’s cock. Locking eyes with the larger man he leans down and gives him a solid lick from base to tip.

Tormund shivers, laughing breathlessly. 

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" 

Jon narrows his eyes, tilting his head slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Tormund smooths down his curls, to soothe his ruffled feathers. 

"Just that you're good at this. Very good," 

He grins."Yeah?" 

"Yes," says Tormund, smiling down at him. Jon's stomach flips in his belly, and he exhales sharply. Tormund raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't speak again. 

Jon goes back to work. 

Keeping his hand on the base of Tormund’s cock for leverage, he works on taking it as deep as he can. He can hear Tormund murmuring above him, mostly soft curses, or Jon's name.

Jon's on his knees for so long he loses track of time. What finally brings him back to reality is when Tormund starts pulling on his hair, pulling him  _ off _ of the cock twitching in his mouth. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry,  _ fuck _ I'm so close-" Tormund chokes out, and Jon realizes it once what the other man is doing. Letting the hand stay in his curls, he swallows Tormund down again, determined to have him cum in his mouth. 

" _ Jon- _ " Tormund lets out a strangled gasp, and his mouth fills with warm salt. Jon swallows instinctively and pulls off Tormunds cock with a gasp of his own and a small cough. 

He keeps his eyes down, bringing one hand up briefly to wipe his mouth. He can hear Tormund trying to catch his breath. His hands have gone mostly limp in Jon's hair, although his fingers still twitch somewhat sending shivers down Jon’s spine. His forearms rest heavily on Jon's shoulders, making him feel incredibly grounded. 

He's not sure he wants to move. He doesn't want to break whatever silence they've fallen into, where somehow they're saying so much without ever having to use words. 

Tormund doesn't quite break what they've fallen into, but he does shift it. He gently untangles his hands from Jon's hair, pulling lightly on his bicep to coax up onto the bed. He follows, climbing into Tormund's lap and accepting the deep kisses from the other man. 

The thought of Tormund tasting himself on Jon's tongue is like throwing gasoline on a wildfire, and Jon squirms in Tormunds lap.

While Tormund ravages his mouth, Jon's cock throbs harshly in his shorts. He whines into their kiss, trying to grind down in the redhead’s lap for friction. Tormund responds with a deep moan, palming and squeezing Jon's ass.

He whimpers when one of Tormund's hands moves to ghost over the tent in his pajamas, his cock jumping eagerly. 

"Jon, we need lube," He says, grinning. "I'm not about to give you a dry handjob after that trip to heaven you just gave me."

Jon goes scarlet, getting off of Tormund's lap and walking to his nightstand where he keeps a bottle of lube for his own….. _ Personal Nighttime Activities.  _

Unable to meet his eyes he wordlessly hands it to Tormund, standing somewhat awkwardly in front of him. Tormund sighs lightly, setting the bottle down beside him. 

Jon  _ squawks _ when his boyfriend reaches out suddenly and snatches him around the waist, pulling him up until he's settled in Tormund's lap once again. 

They spend a few seconds staring at one another, just breathing. Tormund is staring up at him with a look that sends shivers up Jon's spine. Tormund must feel it because he smiles at Jon warmly before pulling him down for a heated kiss. 

He can feel Tormund moving around, he hears the click of the bottle, but somehow it's still a surprise when cool, lubed fingers trace over his abdomen. 

"How about I move these out of the way a little?" he asks, tugging at Jon's shorts with his clean hand. 

Jon nods, gulping. 

Tormund pushes his shorts down around his thighs, and Jon hisses at the feeling of cool air. 

"May I?" Whispers Tormund, his fingers just barely grazing Jon's hard on. 

"Fuck yeah," Jon says, his tone dripping with arousal. Tormund growls ducks a little to nip at Jon's new favorite place on his neck, and Jon  _ finally _ feels something other than his loose shorts. His brain stutters along with his breathing, and he hums highly in pleasure when Tormund starts moving his hand up and down, albeit slowly. 

"Tormund," Jon gasps into the other man's mouth, "Please go faster," 

He does. 

"You're so polite, Jon. Such a sweet thing, aren't you?" 

"Oh, yes," Jon sighs in agreement. Tormund’s hands and voice and  _ tongue _ are all making it impossible for him to think. He feels warm and floaty as if he's hovering just outside himself, with Tormund tethering him to reality. 

Tormund is whispering into Jon's ear, breath hot and wet. It makes the hair on the back of Jon's neck stand up. The hand that isn't jerking him off is resting on the small of his back, a steadying warmth. 

Jon’s fingers tangle themselves in Tormund's hair, their kisses turning sloppier the faster Tormund works his hand. Jon shifts, spreading his thighs wider. Tormund growls in appreciation, the hand on Jon's back moving down to grip the back of one of his thighs tightly. 

He slows his hand again, and for a moment Jon thinks to complain, but it just feels so  _ good- _

Tormund keeps playing with him, speeding up and slowing down at random intervals, never keeping one pace too long. 

Soon, Jon is whining constantly, burying his face in Tormund's neck. His fingers are digging into the meat of Tormund’s shoulder blades, feeling the muscle there. The sheer strength Jon feels emanating from the other man is enough to make him dizzy. 

And when paired with the handjob Jon thinks may have been going on for an hour now, he’s so far out of his head he doesn't even know where he  _ is. _ All he can think of at this moment in the man underneath him, the man keeping him upright, supporting him.

Tormund seems to have made it his job to cover Jon's neck in bruises, and the dull ache is resonating all the way down to his rock hard cock. The movement of the larger man’s hand has long since grown hot, and with all the precum Tormund has gotten from him they probably wouldn't have even needed the lube. 

Jon squirms wildly when Tormund focuses on his head. He suspects the only reason he doesn't fall off is the firm grip Tormund still has on the back of his thigh. 

Tormund speeds up very suddenly and very briefly. Jon tenses and gasps like he's been hit with a defibrillator, arching his back with something that's almost a shout. 

He almost sobs when Tormund returns to his torturous pace.

"Oh, oh, Tormund,  _ please-" _ He feels the chill of shame for a moment, embarrassed by his own eagerness. It's quickly swept away by the heat of Tormund’s lips, which have started laying gentle, chaste kisses all over his face. He gives a half-choked laugh when soft lips land on his closed eye, but it swiftly drops pitch to a groan when Tormund swoops down to take a bite of Jon's neck between his teeth.

He gives a small shout, fisting Tormunds hair to keep his teeth where they are. He rolls his hips into Tormund’s hand, which is still moving impossibly slow. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my  _ god _ -" 

Keeping quiet seems like an unreachable goal, so instead, Jon tries to focus on not ripping his boyfriend's hair out. He's  _ so _ close. Tormund releases Jon's neck and gives a hum of laughter, the baritone reverberating all through him. He pecks the bruise he's left on Jon with something akin to pride, causing Jon to inhale sharply. 

"Tormund," He whines, deciding to drop pretenses. 

"Okay, Okay," he whispers back, "I'm sorry. I've been teasing you for far too long, hmm?" 

The only response Jon can muster is a wordless moan. He feels like he's full of lightning instead of blood. It sparks up his spine and through every one of his ribs, enveloping his entire body in a rush of feeling that has him arching his back for  _ more. _

Tormund picks up the pace. Jon can only gasp, his hips jerking wildly. 

"That's it Jon," Tormund murmurs into his ear, his breath hot and wet against Jon's ear. "You just take what you need, and I'll give it to you." 

He wraps his free arm tightly around Jon's waist, sucking at the hickeys that are littering his throat.

"Oh, oh, I'm right there, please please please don't stop-" 

Tormund doesn't stop, and Jon stiffens with a ragged yell. He spills all over Tormund's fist, his own stomach, Tormunds stomach -shouting all the way. He's just too out of it to care. 

He's panting, his hair plastered to his temples with sweat. He feels like he should try and move from his current position, but he also feels like his bones are made of jello. 

"We should get cleaned up," Tormund murmurs, a hand playing in Jon's hair. 

Jon groans from where his face is squished against the massive shoulder. 

"N a minute," he slurs, still coming back to himself. "I don't think I can move yet." 

Tormund chuckles lightly, tugging lightly at one of Jon's wayward curls. 

"Alright," He says softly. "Come here then." 

Jon doesn't have time to ask him what he means before he's being lifted bridal style. He flushes crimson, but he doesn't complain. It feels nice. 

Tormund perches him on the edge of his bathroom sink before rummaging around for a cloth. Jon just watches him, unwilling to break this wonderful spell they've cast. 

When Tormund returns in front of him with a wet washcloth Jon half expects him to just hand it over and leave him to clean himself up, but instead Tormund crowds in close again. 

Tormund kisses him gently while wiping him down, and it's the most intimate Jon's ever felt. 

Tormund pulls away. "Better?" He asks, his cheeks tinted a slight pink. 

"Yeah," Jon smiles. "I'm good. Great, even." 

That earns him a laugh. "Good," Tormund is grinning wildly. "That means we can do that again sometime. Sound like fun?" 

"Yes." He replies. "Now carry me back to bed, I want a nap and you're my pillow." 

Tormund obeys, chuckling. "I'll have to be careful not to spoil you," He jokes, and Jon snorts. 

"Oh please, we both know you don't need any help there." 

Tormund grumbles at that, and Jon leans up to smack a kiss on his cheek. "I do oh so appreciate it though. You're much too good for me." 

Tormund looks down at him, a semi-stern look on his face. "Don't say that," He says in a serious voice. "You're amazing. You could have anyone you wanted."

"Yup." Jon agrees, "And I want you."

Tormund sets him on the bed before crawling in himself, flopping onto his back in the middle like a starfish. Jon gets comfortable, wrapping Tormund's arm around his shoulders.

After a few minutes of silence Tormund whispers, "We should get moving," 

"In a few minutes," he pushes. "I don't want this to end yet." 


End file.
